One Step Forward, Two Decades Back
by corvusdraconis
Summary: AU/AO: [HG/SS] What-if Story. Hermione Granger gets erased due to a badly phrased, vague, and bitter wish. She is Hermione Granger no more. Now, thanks to Ron, she is Hermione Ankaa Black, sister of Sirius and Regulus Black, and member of the Noble and Most House of Black. Now what is she going to do? Multiple pairings in later chapters, and JP starts out as a rampaging jerk.
1. Chapter 1 : The Wish

**A/N: AU/AO:** Rated M for safety, but I'm pants at lemons, so it's definitely not for THAT reason.

Eventually **[HG/SS]** This story is a what-if story (and definitely alternate outcome story - think a ripple in the pond) that throws our dear post-war Hermione Granger back in time due to very badly made wish.

It was something rolling around in my head while trying to figure out how to proceed with Looks Can Be Deceiving.

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***Warning*******: Time will be confusing in this story. The futures are not set in stone. Sometimes you will see futures that will come to pass. Sometimes you will not. What you see is not always going to be what you get. It helps to remember that once she's back in the "past" that is the only thing that isn't changing anymore. The future, however, could flux the moment Hermione turns left instead of right one day.

Relationships will also be in flux until Hermione settles on the one. Try to remember that none of the future has happened. This is not going to be canon. Lucius Malfoy was not born a Death Eater with sins painting him black at birth.

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**Disclaimer:** I am not JKR. All the characters you recognise from her novels are hers. I'm just using them in my sandbox. Those you don't recognise are probably mine, and I do have a habit of making them up as I go along, as those of you who read my other stories can attest to.

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As usual, no beta as of the beginning of 2015, so forgive the sleepy brain mistakes that come with 0200 chapter writing and posting.

**Update for 2016:** Whoa! I have a beta! I may have 2 betas! HUZZAH! Much love to **fluffpanda** (who joined me around chapter 22) and the **Dragon and the Rose ** who have joined forces starting at chapter 33.

Also thanks to **Dutchgirl01** for being the support she's always been and **Sehanine** who reminds me that cookies are biscuits, trousers should never be considered pants, and if Sirius wakes up with knickers on his canine head, he is definitely in more trouble than if he had pants on his head.

That being said. Onward and enjoy!

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**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter One: The Wish**

Hermione woke in the darkness of the room with a pounding headache and a feeling of dread. It wasn't anything new, truth be told, but she was pretty sure she was quite tired of it. She reached out into the darkness for her wand and groaned as her hand fumbled in the dark and knocked something off of the bedside table.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes and flung her hand out and silently conjured a mage light wandlessly. Personal klutziness aside, wandless and silent magic did have its uses.

She stared blearily into the dim room and blinked.

Grimmauld Place?

She couldn't remember falling asleep in this particular room, but there were plenty of empty rooms at Grimmauld Place after the war. Harry and her had shared the place to stay away from the post-war "fame" that chased them. Ron never had that issue, she noted. He loved the fame. Harry and Hermione, however, did not.

The only time Harry left Grimmauld place was to go to work and visit Ginny. The only time Hermione left Grimmauld place was… well when she wasn't working at Hogwarts, she didn't leave Grimmauld Place.

Working for the Ministry was one disappointment after another. She didn't like politics, and politics was everything at the Ministry. Nothing seemed to make it any better. Promotions only made it worse, so when Minerva McGonagall had offered her an Apprenticeship in Transfiguration as her Apprentice, Hermione had taken the bait—hook, line, and sinker.

Her baptism by fire, so to speak, as Minerva's Apprentice, had been to help transfigure building supplies for the multiple wings and rooms that had not been completed yet. The innate magic of Hogwarts was exceedingly complex, and while some of it was written in _Hogwarts: a History_, alas, Hermione finally admitted that there were some things books could not provide. It only took eleven plus years to finally admit that to herself. Some lessons, apparently, took a bit longer to sink in.

The outside of Hogwarts had been rebuilt quite quickly, but the inside along with the complex magics required to animate the stairwells and reweave the delicate and almost sentient awareness of the building had taken much longer.

The rebuilding of Minerva McGonagall had taken even longer. The elder witch was quite relieved to have Hermione at her side, Hermione sensed. She was a piece of her past that had not perished in the wars. She taught her so many intricate things as they walked together around Black Lake with almost religious fervour. One of the games they would play was who could silently and wandlessly trip the other up in the most subtle way possible. It was a terribly Slytherin sort of game, but neither Gryffindor graduates wanted to confess to that particular detail in the slightest.

If anything, Hermione's work with the Ministry had turned her into a career Slytherin. She knew the ups and downs of the Ministry, how to work people, and how to get exactly what she wanted while rubbing the least amount of backs and oiling the least amount of gears. She had become ruthless while she worked the Ministry, and she had a feeling that when she took the job at Hogwarts, many of the politicians of the Ministry breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

Her mind, however, never lost her very Slytherin re-programming. Despite whatever bravery and Gryffindor traits she may have had while travelling through the life of Harry Potter's adventures against Voldemort, her post graduate war mentality had become undeniably ruthless, cunning, and tenacious. Save for a handful of people who knew her from her "previous life" as she considered it, she kept a very distant and almost emotionless mask upon her face. Emotions, after all, tipped off your rivals in the Ministry as to how you would vote, and she had become very skilled at the Wizarding version of the Muggle poker face.

Hermione found, years later, that she understood her old Potion Master's mask so much better. While they never had a chance to become colleagues, thanks to his unpleasant death to Nagini, she had a feeling of loss that she could never truly explain. It wasn't like she missed him calling her insufferable and a know-it-all. After learning about his true allegiance from Harry, though, she felt like she had been deprived of learning the true face of her potions professor. He was the one professor she had never truly gotten to know, and for a witch who prided herself on wanting to as much as possible, that fact alone was bothersome. While talking to his portrait in the Headmistress' office from time to time had proven quite educational, she knew it would never be the same.

Hermione self-declared Minerva's mental healing much improved the morning that Hermione had completed her animagus meditations under Minerva's watchful eye.

"No Apprentice of mine is going to work so hard in transfiguration and not be able to obtain an animagus form," Minerva had scoffed.

And so it was, Hermione drilled, learning, studied, meditated, and practically breathed animagus studies while she learned everything else. The morning she finally felt herself ready, Minerva accompanied her to the shore of Black Lake, and Hermione Granger literally gained her wings.

Minerva had tilted back her head and laughed. It was a genuine laugh of warmth that healed something in Hermione as much, perhaps, as it healed the old tabby animagus. McGonagall had held out her arm and Hermione crashed into it, clinging to her arm awkwardly as her first flight came to a somewhat undignified halt.

Hermione, who had never once enjoyed flight on a broom, realised that something else had changed inside her mind. Flying was… beyond spectacular. It filled her with something that was beyond joy—a feeling she did not think she would find herself in again after the war. As she clung to Minerva's arm and settled, her broad wings fanned out like a thunderbird atop the totem pole, she let out a long string of notes that filled the air with an echo of her joyous flight. She talon walked up Minerva's arm and placed her head over the Headmistress' silver hair in a birdish version of a hug.

McGonagall had tears in her eyes. "I never thought to see a phoenix again after Fawkes," she said with warmth.

Hermione had chirped and nuzzled Minerva, sensing her sadness even as she felt her warmth. Albus' death still haunted the Headmistress. Finding out that Snape had not murdered Albus for the Dark Lord had helped her deal better with his death, but the fact that he had not informed her about his cursed hand personally had given her one more thing to brood over. Minerva had truly thought their relationship to be trusting enough that he could have told her. The fact he hadn't made her consider what her friendship with Albus Dumbledore had truly been.

Hermione, in her animagus form, was a darker version of Fawkes. While Fawkes had been brilliant in colour and remnant of blazing flames, Hermione's feathers were a combination of dark siennas and earthen tones. Hermione pondered if that was normal, and Minerva seemed to think that females of the bird species tended to prefer blending in if they were going to sit a nest of eggs, so earth tones seemed logical to her. It made sense on paper, so Hermione didn't argue. Minerva sent in Hermione's registration in with her seal and signature of approval, and her animagus form was all official and legal. A pin was sent to her by owl to commemorate her registration, and Hermione noted with pleasure that the pin was quite subtle rather than gaudy, so it would not advertise her status as an animagus unnecessarily.

Hermione spent much of her time riding on Minerva's shoulder as she flitted around Hogwarts attending to her duties. She quite enjoyed acting like the elder witch's familiar, and in many ways, she sensed that Minerva didn't mind at all. It was yet one more bit of healing between the two war veterans.

Speaking of healing, Hermione's mind came back to her situation at hand. Why was she back at Grimmauld Place? She had been preparing the lesson plans for the next wave of first year students for Minerva the last she could remember.

Her pounding headache started to remind her against better judgement. Ron. It had been something about Ron.

Her relationship with Ron had soured after the war. Their heated kiss had turned out to be something fleeting and hormonal rather than based on mutual affection and maturity. Her career at the Ministry had made her elusive, emotionally well-guarded, and even more emotionally distant. Occlumency had driven the rest from her expression and her posture. The emotions she had were hidden away, making an emotionally charged relationship with Ron utterly impossible.

His desire for a passionate lover and warm relationship collided with her professionalism, and nae the two did meet. Or rather, when they did meet, it was almost cataclysmic in nature.

Hermione had, in all actuality, wished Ron well in his life and finding someone that was better suited for his needs, but Ron's needs seemed to centre on her being in it, only, not the Hermione she was post-war. He wanted the same Hermione he'd grown up with, perhaps the emotionally charged sixteen year old version of Hermione Granger rather than the twenty-some year old Professor Granger with mental guardedness of someone still in the trenches of said war.

Hermione remembered, as she sat in the dimness of her room at Grimmauld Place, that Harry had invited her over to reminisce over the death of his godfather. They had looked over the picture books he had found buried in the various rooms as well as the few albums he had created while Sirius had been alive and in his life.

Hundreds of old photos had scattered the room with the Black family tree. Harry, Hermione, and copious amounts of various alcohol had been involved. Hermione had stuck with tea, knowing her tolerance for alcohol was untested. The last thing she wanted to do is get drunk for the first time, if ever, while Harry needed her to be strong for him while he fell to pieces.

Ron had, unfortunately, come to visit, completely oblivious as to the date. He had come to see Harry, but Hermione had already been there, and like fire and Muggle gasoline, the moment his eyes fell upon Hermione surrounded by pictures of the Black Family, the argument was on.

Hermione couldn't even remember all the insults that Ron had thrown at her. They had just erupted from his mouth like the proverbial sailor's potty verbiage, and the more Hermione tried to exit the "conversation" the angrier Ron got. Somehow, and she wasn't sure how, Ron seemed to think that Harry and Hermione were "having a thing" together. He called Harry a bunch of names for cheating on Ginny and then called her many things that were not repeatable in polite company… or anyone's company for that matter.

Harry and Ron got into a physical altercation all over the Black Family photos, including the precious album Harry had of his godfather. The moment Ron's foot kicked the album out of the way, Hermione watched in horror as it landed in the lit fireplace.

Two things came to mind as she saw the arching photo book going through the air. One, she had no idea which album it was to use _accio_, and two, at least her other form was fireproof. Hermione dove towards the fireplace, flames bursting from her form as she shifted shapes, her phoenix form diving in the flames of the fireplace. She flapped her wings out and did a powerful kick to punt the precious album out of the fireplace.

She flew out of the fireplace and dropped onto the smoldering album, shifting into her human form to douse the flames with her hands and her robes, sighing with relief as the photo book seemed charred on the outside and the edges, but not enough to ruin all the photos within.

Hermione started to gather up the photos and photo books, trying to get them to safety as Harry and Ron literally tried to beat the everliving daylights out of each other.

She had just gotten her arms around most of the books and stood up to get them out of room and out of harm's way when Ron managed to get a good punch in on Harry, knocking him backwards into Hermione.

Hermione slammed into the wall, cracking her head against the Black Family Tree.

She was seeing constellations in the haze as Harry's weight kept her pinned down.

Ron was towering over them, radiating his anger. "You make me sick, Hermione," Ron snarled at her. "You want to be in Harry's life so bad? Fine. I wish Hermione Granger never existed." Green rays had come from Ron's wand as her vision went black.

Hermione groaned at the memory. How did she get into the bed? Harry must have helped her into bed, bless him. Considering the fight he'd had with Ron, he was probably passed out somewhere nursing his wounds too. Part of Hermione wondered if this was a situation where telling Ginny what had happened should be done sooner rather than later. Maybe she would do that, when she could figure out what exactly had happened. If her head stopped feeling like a herd of hippogriffs were stampeding on her grey matter. She might have to send Minerva an owl requesting a day off to get herself sorted out. Her head felt like it was going to explode.

She looked over onto the floor to find her wand, and saw nothing. Damnation. Where was the bloody thing. She silently held out her hand, willing it to her palm, but nothing happened. Frowning even harder, she did the same with an added, "Accio, my wand."

Nothing.

Hermione slumped. So this was what kind of day it was going to be. Had she lost her wand in the altercation? Was it pinned under two hundred Black Family photo albums? Was Harry sleeping on it?

Hermione threw the covers off the bed and walked towards the kitchen. Tea was required before panic over her wand set in. She didn't need the wand for most of her spells she used, but she didn't want to be casting a bunch of spells with a migraine without of a wand, thank you very much.

Hermione looked around her and noticed that the house was much cleaner than she remembered it. The portraits were all polished and dust free. The tables and cloths were clean, and the hallway actually had a carpet. Kreacher must have been working overtime. Maybe Harry's being nice to Kreacher really was having a better effect on the bitter old house-elf.

She shambled into the kitchen with a yawn. "I could really use a nice cup of tea right about know."

There was a soft pop, and Kreacher appeared on the counter with a tea service. "Kreacher bring tea for young Mistress," he said in the closest things to politeness Hermione had ever heard from him. Normally the customary greeting was "filthy mudblood" and came accompanied by gritted teeth from both parties.

"Thank you… Kreacher," Hermione said with a yawn. She took the teacup and poured herself some tea, drinking it without sugar or milk in her hasted to get it into her stomach as fast as possible.

"This tea is wonderful," Hermione said after a moment. "I didn't know we even had this kind of tea here."

The house-elf looked at her with some concern. "Kreacher makes young Mistress same tea every morning," he said, but again, his voice was not twisted into the bitter tone she normally expected from him.

Every morning? Maybe Kreacher was getting addled in his old age. She'd been at Hogwarts more than Grimmauld for the past few years now.

"Young Mistress be wanting breakfast now or with family?" Kreacher asked.

Hermione pondered waiting for Harry. "Just tea for now, Kreacher. I'll have breakfast when Harry wakes up. Thank you."

The house elf looked at her oddly. "Yes, Mistress," he said disappeared with a pop.

Minutes past as her head tried to recover from her headache, but the tea was only marginally helping, despite how good it tasted.

Hermione yawned again, placing her forehead against the counter top. Maybe she should crawl back into bed.

Footsteps in the hallway caught her attention, but she didn't even bother to raise her head. There was only one other person that lived in Grimmauld with her, save Kreacher, and it had to be Harry Potter.

"Up with the dawn, as usual, sis," a warm and familiar voice greeted her. Hermione's mental ears twitched. At that moment, Harry sounded like a younger version of his godfather. "You ready for Hogwarts?" A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders and gave her a hug.

Hermione grunted into the kitchen counter.

"That's a vote of enthusiasm," he told her. "You must have excited yourself long into the night. You're going to fall asleep on the Hogwart's Express."

Hermione mumbled into the counter that she was perfectly capable of apparating to Hogwarts now that Minerva adjusted the non-apparition jinx for her.

"What's that?" he replied to her. "I can't hear you through all that mumble. Hope you don't mumble the floo to Diagon Alley. You'll end up showing up in Borgin and Burkes or something and somehow it will be my fault."

Hermione groaned into the counter as she sound of someone rattling the tea service and pouring tea into a cup rattled her ears. "Mmph," she managed to say.

A hand ruffled her hair, and he muttered into her arms, rolling her head from side to side.

"Hermione Ankaa Black," came a familiar stern voice of Walburga Black. The screaming portrait had conditioned Hermione into instant recognition. "What have I told you about laying your head on the kitchen counters? That is not proper lady-like behaviour. Come here and give your mother a hug."

Hermione's head shot straight up, and she heard her voice say "Yes, mother," instantly. She was up and out of her chair and her arms were around Walburga's waist instantly as though it were the most natural thing to do in the world.

The elder matron of the House of Black curved her arms around Hermione briefly and released her. "I hope you do not forget your manners when you go off to school, child. We have taught you better."

Hermione stood, stone-faced as her mind tried to process exactly what had just happened and why she had done it. Finally her mind focused on the name Walburga had called that had caused Hermione to automatically leap to obey.

Hermione Ankaa Black.

Bloody hell and Merlin's boxers… Ron had wished her out of existence as Hermione Granger and thrust her into the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

She turned around and saw young Sirius Black stuffing his face with eggs and toast. He made a funny face at her, sticking his tongue out at her, only to have Walburga dress him down for bad table manners.

"I'm so jealous of you two," a voice called from the door. A young black-haired boy bounced into the kitchen. "You guys get to goto Hogwarts and I have to wait another year."

"It's only one more year, Regulus," Sirius said, drinking his tea in between bites of toast.

"Hermione," Regulus whined. "Let me hide away in your travelling trunk!"

"Oh no you don't, Regulus Arcturus Black," Walburga scolded. "You will wait patiently for your own time to come."

Regulus made a face as he drew Hermione into a hug. "But, I'm going to miss them."

"They will see you on the holidays, child," Walburga scolded. "See to your breakfast, now."

"Yes, mother," Regulus pouted, releasing Hermione from his death-grip hug.

Hermione stood frozen in place as people moved around her, desperately trying to process the situation she was in. Part of her brain was screaming that everything had gone pear-shaped, while the rest of her brain seemed to think it was perfectly normal to be in the kitchen with brothers before heading off to Diagon Alley and then Hogwarts.

Brothers? Diagon Alley? Hogwarts for the first time with Sirius?

Merlin. It was 1971.

That was the last thing her brain allowed her to realise before promptly shunting all the precious oxygen giving blood to her extremities. Hermione fainted and fell like a sack of potatoes to the kitchen floor.

She vaguely heard Walburga yelling at her that her actions were not proper lady-like behaviour as the world went black.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Ankaa, btw, is the phoenix constellation. Intentional? Oh, yes.


	2. Consciousness

"_I've got this completely under control." - Sif_

"_Is that why everything is on fire?" -Thor_

**Chapter 2: Consciousness**

.Pat.

"There, there, young Mistress," a voice soothed. "Kreacher is here. Kreacher take care of miss."

Hermione groaned, her hand going to her head. "Eugh."

"Hey, twin," Sirius' voice broke her out of her haze. "Thought we lost you there. Mother was ready to ship you off to St. Mungos. Though, personally, I think she's the one that needs to go there, not you."

"Sirius," Hermione groaned.

"Uh oh," Sirius groaned. "It's never good when you use my first name.

"Hush, Canis," Hermione heard herself say.

"There we go, that's better," Sirius laughed. "Get off her, Kreacher. She's awake now."

Kreacher made a growling sound. "Of course, Master," the house-elf grunted and disappeared with a pop.

"You shouldn't," Hermione started to say as she sat up in bed. The bed covers seemed heavier than usual. "Shouldn't be so mean to him."

What? Kreacher?" Sirius scoffed. "There hasn't been a day we've got along, you know that. He probably tried to smother me as a baby."

Hermine groaned and rubbed her head.

"Ready to go to Diagon Alley, my young chick?" a low rumbling voice said, a salt and peppered beard peaked around the door.

"Daddy," Hermione bowled over Sirius as she ran into the man's arms. She leapt into his embrace as he twirled her around. "There now, my young lady. We shall keep this unwomanly behaviour between us."

Hermione grinned at him, feeling a sense of warmth from him that she couldn't help but want, accept, and devour like a half-starved person.

"You feeling better, my little phoenix?" the elder Black crooned to her. "Stress of going to Hogwarts and being on your own take its toll upon you, my daughter?"

Hermione found herself nodding.

"It will be fine, sweetling," the man soothed her. "You are a Black. Young heiress to the Noble House of Black, daughter of Orion Black, phoenix of the celestial pathways. You will fear nothing. The flames of your wings shall set the world aflame in your glory."

Hermione beamed at him, swept up in the pep talk like the eleven year old she had apparently become. "You make me sound like a Gryffindor, Pappa," Hermione said automatically, making her feel like she was one element in a very complex dual personality.

Orion Black scoffed at his daughter. "Gryffindor's House could only wish to gain one such as you, my daughter. May they dream never to see it come to pass. Come. Get dressed. We need to get your supplies before your brother paces a hole in our entry hall. You can wear your green velvet dress, since it's a special day."

Hermione found herself bouncing on her heels. "Yes, pappa," she said, moving towards the wardrobe.

"Kreacher," Orion's voice rumbled. "See that my daughter has assistance with her dress."

There was a soft pop. "Yes, Master. Kreacher honoured to serve."

"Come, Sirius," Orion pushed his son along. "Leave your twin to dress in peace. You are not five anymore and privy to each other's dressing habits."

Sirius make a huffing noise as his father pushed him down the hallway.

"Put your arms up, young Mistress," Kreacher said, holding out an emerald green velvet dress for her to wear. "Kreacher will make sure you look like a Black."

Hermione wiggled into the dress and felt Kreacher helping zip up the back for her. She felt him tying an ornate silver sash around her waist. She looked at the long mirror for the first time and gasped.

Her normal brown tresses of hair were a dark ebony black. It was like looking in a time machine. She recognised her old, or rather younger, face. Her cheekbones were slightly higher, a gift, perhaps, from her mother Walburga, and her skin more pale. She bared her teeth, expecting to see the annoying buck teeth that tormented her childhood, but her pearly white teeth were perfectly normal. She looked very much like Hermione Granger at the age, with subtle changes that indicated her genetic inheritance from Orion and Walburga.

"There you go, Mistress," Kreacher said, patting her down to take out the wrinkles.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around the surprised house-elf.

Kreacher's eyes went wide, but his skinny arms wrapped around her, his hands patting her reassuringly. "There, there, Mistress. You'll be strong at Hogwarts," he said with a pat. "Bring honour to the House of Black."

Hermione smiled nervously at the house-elf, looking at him with a new respect. There had obviously been a time when the house-elf was more than the bitter, Muggle-hating monstrosity that he had become in her future. Well, what she had once believed to be her future. Now, she wasn't sure.

She didn't feel the gaping anguish of losing her previous life. Perhaps it had something to do with how she was "wished" or more likely cursed out of her old life. Now, apparently, she was Hermione Ankaa Black, daughter of Orion and Walburga Black, and sister to Sirius and Regulus Black. What that meant for her future, she did not now. She wasn't even sure if the future remembered her. Would Harry miss her? Would Minerva? Hermione felt her first true pang of regret. Would Minerva be teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts? Would she accept her as this new person who had yet to prove herself worthy of any friendship?

Hermione straightened her shoulders and walked out her bedroom door, closing the door behind her.

Diagon Alley awaited.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Look, Damien," a pimple-faced boy sneered as he shoved Hermione down into the puddle. "It's one of those old history freaks."

The other boys next to him laughed. "Can't even dress right. They belong in the theatre." The boys took turns stomping in the puddle to cover her in dirt, and kicked her ankles to watch her flinch in pain.

"Or the circus," the other snickered. They made to kick her, and Hermione felt a crack starting to form around her normal control over her magic. She felt it rise up within her. Hot. Angry and full of the kind of wrath that needed no words.

Suddenly, a blur of motion slammed the older boy into the brick wall of the nearby shop. "Don't you have somewhere… more loathsome to be? Wallowing in a pig's sty perhaps?" an acidic voice drawled. The tall figure that had come to her rescue flung the boy into the others, toppling them like dominoes. He held his hand out, fingers splayed as if slime was dripping off them and their skin was coated in a fine layer of feces. "If you know what is good for you. You will leave. Right. Now." The boys were older, but not as intimidating as her rescuer.

The group of Muggle tormentors fled the London walkway.

A hand extended to her, pale and immaculate.

Hermione grasped the hand and pulled herself up, brushing her emerald dress with her hands in a worried manner. "Thank you…" she looked up to see his face.

"Lucius," the long-haired blond said softly. His voice was like velvet. "Lucius Malfoy."

The Slytherin boy bowed formally and pressed his lips to the top of her hand. "You must be Lady Hermione Black. Your father and mine speak highly of you. I'm surprised you are here without escort, Lady Black."

Hermione blushed, looking away. "I slipped away when my brother caused a scene down the street over there," Hermione confessed. "I wanted to see Eeylops Owl Emporium. The Hogwarts letter said I could have an owl, a cat, or a toad." She wrinkled her nose at the mention of toad.

Lucius tilted his head back and laughed. It was the first time Hermione had seen Lucius laugh. He looked sane. His laughter was warm. He extended his arm to her. "Come then, Lady Black," he said softly. "Allow me to escort you to Eeylop's away from this… disgusting place. Do you have your list?" He smiled as the enchantments on her dress caused the mud and water to roll off the velvet, making her dress look as pristine as it had been in the morning when she had first put it on.

Hermione nodded and stared at the extended arm. He had saved her from a gang of prejudice Muggles. All her life she had been on the end of the Wizarding elite coming down on her for being a Muggle. This was the first time she had been on the opposite side. In her childhood memories, she had always looked the Muggle part because she had grown up that way. Now, out on her "first" day in her "proper" dress to be seen in public, she had been shoved into the ground and kicked for being different. Being called a Mudblood seemed strangely passive in comparison. Taking in a breath and stifling the inner voice that screamed "that's Malfoy! MALFOY!" she placed her hand upon his offered arm and bowed into a curtsy. "Thank you, Lord Malfoy. I accept your offer."

"Lucius," he replied as he guided her to the Leaky Cauldron. "Call me Lucius. I will be prefect for Slytherin House starting this year, so if you have any problems, you will be sure to let me know, yes?" He spoke as if she were already Slytherin.

Hermione nodded, dumbly. She had a feeling he would be a lot less friendly to her if she was sorted into Gryffindor. It was a wonderful offer, however fleeting.

Lucius walked at her side as though she were an equal, escorting her through the brick separator wall and down the busy streets of Diagon Alley. People in the Alley scurried out of their way, almost in direct contradiction to how the boys outside the Alley had treated Hermione.

Eeylops was, oddly, the same. There was almost no difference at all, save the owls sitting on perches. Various owls hooted at her from their perches. Some of them bounced up and down on the perches. Some just swivelled their heads to stare at her.

"They're beautiful," Hermione said.

Hermione had never had an owl of her own. She had found Crookshanks, but had lost him during the attack on the Burrow. She had never found him. She had always adored Hedwig, and Harry's owl had always been kind to her, but she was devoted to Harry. A part of her found a kinship in the birds now that had found her inner phoenix. She wondered if there was a bird amongst these noble raptors that would call her friend.

Hermione looked around her. "May we go in?" she asked Lucius.

Lucius looked at her with a smirk. "Of course." He opened the door for her with a bow of the head.

Hermione rushed into the store, looking over the various owls. Lucius stood nearby, standing tall and silent near the door, his eyes never leaving her. At times, Hermione forgot who it was that was watching over her. His presence guarded her, and it was a bizarre feeling to be watched over by Malfoy in a way that was not a guard and prisoner sort of way. There was a power about him, despite his only being in his fifth year. He knew his magic, and he was willing to use it to her defence rather than against her. The sensation was… discombobulating.

Hermione found a rather drab looking owl lurking in the corner of the store. His bright orange eyes glowed softly in the dimness. She looked closer. "Hello, you," she greeted softly. "You have gorgeous eyes."

The owl shifted his weight on the perch he was on and talon walked closer to her, giving off a soft and dignified hoot.

She extended her fingers and stroked his feathers on his chest like she used to with Hedwig, and the owl fluttered his eyes lazily. She examined him, and realised that there was more colour to him that she original saw. As he stood in the light, he had a mottled brown wings and shoulders, banded cinnamon chest feathers, and dark black feathers mixed in. He lifted up his foot and stepped up onto her wrist and then shimmied his way up to her shoulder.

"Ah, be careful with that there owl, miss," a voice called from the counter. "He's a cranky one, that one."

The owl hooted softly and preened her hair with his beak. Didn't seem very cranky to her. "I like you," Hermione said to the owl. "Would you like to be my owl?"

The owl beaked her ear.

"I don't have any money with me, but I'll come back for you as soon as I can, okay?" Hermione said to the owl.

The owl hooted at her, clinging to her shoulder in protest.

"Oh, but I can't," Hermione protested. "My… parents have my money."

The lady at the counter brought up a large owl cage. "Here you go dear," the lady said.

"Oh, but… I don't have my…" Hermione started.

"All taken care of dear," the witch said with a smile. "I'll send the other supplies up to Hogwarts with the next shipment. Should be there before you even get there."

"But," Hermione protested, and the owl on her shoulder nipped her ear. "Ow!"

A soft chuckle came from the tall blond wizard that stood by the door.

Hermione glared at Lucius. "What?"

"I think he just told you what he thought about leaving him behind," the Slytherin said smoothly.

Hermione slumped. When she looked up at him, she half expected to see a mocking expression his face… the same mocking expression that his son would use to torment her after each jibe. But Lucius wasn't mocking her, he had a smile upon his face. It wasn't a broad or obvious grin, but it was a small curve of his lips on each side. It was… strangely disarming. She questioned herself, wondering where her righteous fury was regarding the Malfoy family and all who were a part of it, but found it floundering. This Lucius had done nothing but protect and be polite to her. This Lucius was just a student, like her. He was a child, albeit an older one than she was, but a child none the less.

"I think I'll call you Sagacity," Hermione told the owl. "Does that work with you?" The owl hooted a soft reply and nibbled on her hairline.

Hermione lifted up the owl cage and opened the door, and the newly dubbed Sagacity hopped into the cage perch so she could close the door.

"Well, that is one thing off your list, my Lady," Lucius purred. "Shall we work on the rest?"

"Hermione," Hermione said softly.

Lucius tilted his head to the side in question.

"You may call me Hermione," she repeated.

The corner of Lucius's lips curved upward and he bowed his head, bringing her hand to his mouth as he gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand. "As you wish, Hermione."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione ran into her father upon exiting who exchanged greetings with Lucius with an amused look upon his face.

"Here you go, my young phoenix," Orion crooned at her as he handed her a pouch of coins. "I see you have already befriended your first ally."

Hermione blushed and Lucius tilted his head. "My Lord Black," Lucius said with a bow.

"Young Lord Malfoy," Orion greeted. "I trust that my daughter has not made a pest of herself at your expense."

"It is not a problem, Lord Black," Lucius said. "It was a pleasure helping her find her supplies."

"Well, I need to find my errant son to insure he is getting his supplies," Orion said. "If it will not be too much inconvenience to you?"

Lucius shook his head.

"Very well," Orion chuckled. "My best to you, young Lord Malfoy." Her father patted Hermione on the shoulder and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

The pair of them flitted from store to store, with Lucius picking up his books for his classes, and Hermione picking up all the things she remembered getting the first time around with the Grangers. The last place the pair of them went into was Ollivanders Wand Shop.

Garrick Ollivander looked up from his desk, "Ahhh, Miss Black," Ollivander said with a smile. "Eleven years already? Seems like just yesterday your father was here picking out his first wand." He stood up with a measuring tape and fussed over her for a few seconds. "Hmmm," he said to himself. "Hmmm."

Hermione found herself looking towards Lucius, and he stared at her and shrugged.

Ollivander pulled various boxes from seemingly random places. "Here you go, try this one first."

Hermione opened the long box and pulled out a light coloured wand that looked so much like her old vine wand. She gave it a flick, and the top shelf nearby exploded. Hermione quickly put it back into the box, replaced the lid, and looked very guilty.

Ollivander looked at the remains of his shelf and raised an eyebrow. "Try this one, dear," he said, handing her another box.

Five shelves, two vases, a flower pot, a desk, and the cash register later, Ollivander handed her a dusty box that looked like had been sitting in wait for longer than she'd been alive in both lives combined.

She opened the box cautiously as Garrick pulled out his wand and repaired his cash register and shelving. Inside the box lay a dark red and dark brown burl wand. The varnish made it shimmer as though it were alive. She picked it up and felt a warmth grow in her palm. She flicked it, thinking of happiest moment of flight having obtained her true wings under Minerva McGonagall's watchful eye. The freedom of that moment had taken all of her pain away.

Vapours spewed from the tip of her wand. The vapours swirled around her and formed into the familiar form of her beloved otter. The otter splashed in the vapour and swam around her playfully, and the darted off into the shelves and disappeared.

"Well, Miss Black," Ollivander said with a smile. "I see the wand has chosen its witch. This is our truest constant and cannot be denied. Twelve and one fourth inches long, rosewood burl of an ancient tree struck by lightning. Dragon heartstring."

Hermione smiled, feeling as though she was reunited with an old and cherished friend. She tucked the wand into her sleeve automatically, smiling as the cool wood kissed her skin with the familiar closeness. She placed the coins down for her wand onto the counter. "Thank you, Master Ollivander," she said softly.

"You are welcome, child," the wizard said with a smile. "Good luck at Hogwarts. I'm sure you are bound to accomplish great things."

Lucius was staring at her as she turned to leave. He opened the door for her, bowing his head in a soft incline.

"You're staring at me, Lucius," Hermione said quietly.

"You have no idea what you just did, do you my Lady?" Lucius asked in a soft tone.

"A wand choosing a person?" Hermione replied. "It happens every time."

"Not like that, it doesn't, Hermione," Lucius said softly. "That was a full-bodied Patronus. N.E.W.T. level students fail at them."

Hermione looked at Lucius with a concerned look. "Does this make me a freak?" she asked, turning her head to the side.

Lucius used his fingers to turn her chin up to meet his gaze. His grey eyes flashed with fire. "Nay, Lady Hermione. It makes you amazing."

Hermione smiled as Lucius let his hand drop. He hoisted her cauldron and items in his arms as he continued to escort her through Diagon Alley.

"Hermione!" Sirius yelled as he ran towards her. "Where have you been?"

Hermione turned around. Lucius was laden in her cauldron, gloves, phials, telescope, brass scales, and her pointed hat. Hermione was carrying the rest as she conversed with the once elder but now younger Malfoy. Hermione figured the less she tried to think about it the better off she'd be.

"Malfoy," Sirius hissed, pulling Hermione by the arm to be behind him.

"Ow, Sirius," Hermione protested in pain, practically getting her arm wrenched off by her over-protective brother.

"You stay away from my sister, Malfoy," Sirius growled at him. "Hermione, stay behind me."

"Si… Sirius!" Hermione protested. "He was helping me carry my things."

"Malfoy helps no one but himself, just like the rest of his bloody family," Sirius answered her, shoving himself in between them like a bookend.

Malfoy's posture stiffened. "I assure you, Black. There was nothing I was doing that your father did not approve." His voice was cold and venomous, and Hermione was reminded of the older Lucius Malfoy, epitome of the Slytherin House mindset, only now, she was fully aware that another face existed for Lucius Malfoy.

Sirius glared at Malfoy. "Where is your cauldron and school supplies, sis?"

"In my cauldron," Hermione said, trying to get around him.

Sirius looked at the cauldron in Lucius' arms and narrowed his eyes. "I'll take that, Malfoy."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but he curled his lip up in disdain. "If you were truly worried about your sister, Black, you would have found her three hours ago, when the Muggles cast her into the mud." He thrust the cauldron into Sirius' arms, his fingers splayed as though what he had been carrying was toxic.

Lucius' head jerked to the side to look at Hermione. He bowed his head stiffly. "Good Afternoon, Lady Hermione," his said stiffly and turned on his heels and melted into the wandering crowds.

Sirius thrust the full cauldron of items into Hermione's hands and dragged her along behind him, causing Sagacity to hoot in protest as his cage slammed into her side as she tried to carry everything by herself without even a shrinking charm.

For the first time in her life, Hermione found herself preferring the company of Lucius Malfoy to Sirius Black.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry groaned as he peeled himself off the floor of the Black family tree room. He rubbed his head as sharp pain reminded him that the previous night's altercation had bruised him in multiple places. He pushed off the wall and rubbed his head.

He frowned as he brought his fingers up to his face and saw blood on them. Wonderful.

Hazily he recalled Hermione having been flung into the wall from the physical "discussion" between himself and Ron. Was it his blood or hers?

"Hermione?" Harry called down the hall. Harry rubbed his aching temples.

"Hermione!" he repeated. Frustrating, he called, "Kreacher!"

The soft pop of the house-elf's apparition near him caused to his head to spin slightly.

"Yes, Master?" Kreacher answered.

"Could you tell Hermione that I'm awake and want to speak with her, please?" Harry said.

Kreacher began to twitch. His hand shot out and grabbed the nearby photo album and started to beat himself with it. "Can't. Can't. Can't."

Harry lunched for the album. "Whoa! Whoa! Kreacher. Stop beating yourself. Tell me why you can't."

Kreacher looked like he was going to dive for another thing to beat himself with. "Mistress must call Kreacher. Mistress' main rule."

Harry grabbed the next album out of Kreacher's hands before he could beat himself against it. Harry countered the order so Kreacher would stop. "I take it back. I take it back. Kreacher. Stop. Please."

Kreacher froze after the please, very slowly relaxing his self-abuse.

Harry let out his breath slow. "Please, tell me why you can't fetch Hermione for me?"

"Mistress ordered Kreacher not to bother unless she calls," Kreacher answered.

Harry rubbed his temples. "Kreacher, you answer to me, yes?"

"Yes," Kreacher answered.

"Then what's the problem?"

Kreacher frowned. "Kreacher above all, serves the great and noble house of Black."

"How does that involve Hermione, Kreacher?" Harry said. "Hermione is a Granger."

Kreacher looked at Harry like he was completely mental. "Only one Hermione, Master." He shambled over to the abused wall. He reached up, pointing to where a blood smear was painted across part of the family tree. "Hermione Ankaa Black of the great and noble House of Black. Her word is law."

Harry scrambled over to the damaged wall and saw the blood smear over one of the name plates under a stylised witch with long raven tresses. Her line was connected to Sirius and Regulus Black as well as Orion and Walburga. He took out his wand and cast a cleaning charm upon the blood so he could read the name plate.

There was a small tear in the fabric of the family tree where her portrait sat as well as traces of blood that had permanently stained the fibres that made up the tapestry.

Hermione Ankaa Black 1959 -

Harry traced the writing with his fingers. How was this possible. Sirius had never told him he had a sister. He remembered staring at the wall for hours, studying the scorch mark that was once his godfather's place on the family tree. Sirius. Regulus. Those he knew, but Sirius and Regulus had never had a sister.

Harry dropped to the floor, grabbing the nearby photo album and flipped through it frantically. Hermione and he had gone through all of them together so many times. Family portraits and candid shots that chronicled the decline of the House of Black and ended with the death of his Godfather.

He pulled out the old picture Sirius had always spoke of fondly. It was from before Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor. It had been before the decline of his mother's sanity, and Orion Black's illness. It was a picture of a family gathered to send their children off to Hogwarts for the first time. Hogwarts Express sat behind them, ready to whisk their children away.

Harry peered at the picture and touched it with his fingers.

Orion and Walburga stood behind, looking stoic. Regulus was grinning wildly as Sirius' hand had reached over to ruffle his brother's hair and put up rabbit ears, but tucked in between them was a black-haired, bushy haired young witch that looked uncannily like Hermione Granger.

Harry looked up at the wall once more and realised something as he traced the line between Sirius and Hermione Ankaa Black. They were twins, and Sirius' portrait wasn't burned off the tree.

"_I wish Hermione Granger never existed!"_

Green energy of a curse had come from Ron's wand when he had sent some sort of curse at Hermione. Harry remembered it now. She had hit her head against the Black family tree and bled upon it, and then Ron had sent a curse at her, wishing that Hermione Granger had never existed.

Merlin.

Harry saw a line connecting Hermione to another portrait, but the portrait had been clawed out of the tapestry wall as if by claws. Padfoot's contribution to the family tree.

What was going on? Something Ron did had obliterated her from his timeline and injected her into the Black family. Somehow, he still remembered her. He remembered his best friend, Hermione Granger. How was that possible?

Suddenly, he remembered how Hermione had flown into the wall after he had slammed into her after Ron's well timed punch. He had been bleeding. She had been bleeding. Perhaps their combined blood had protected her memory in his mind? This was the kind of speculation he needed Hermione for. Harry cursed to himself and then cursed at Ron and then cursed in general.

"Kreacher," Harry said at last, staring into the picture of a smiling Hermione in between the brothers Black.

"Yes, Master?" Kreacher said.

"Is she well?" Harry asked softly.

Kreacher fidgeted. "Y…es."

"Kreacher, how is it that you serve me, if there is a Black alive?" Harry asked.

"Mistress asked Kreacher to watch over Harry Potter when not serving Mistress directly," Kreacher replied.

"She just asked," Harry said. "And you said yes?"

Kreacher shifted his weight and looked at Harry oddly. "She said please."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** I figured the unintentional blood exchange between Harry and Hermione is what allowed Harry to retain his memories of his Hermione (and perhaps, that is why Hermione remembered herself back in 1971). They are imprinted on each other in time and magic thanks to whatever random badness took Ron's wish and warped it into reality.

This is far as I had typed out to get my bunny started. I'm going back to finish _Looks Can Be Deceiving_ before I do regular updates on this story. Thanks to everyone who thinks it's work waiting for _Looks_ to be finished. You all are the best.

I also figure that the only witch that could get Kreacher to choose to look over Harry Potter by his own volition would be Hermione and her use of the most magical word in the world—please.


	3. Train to Hogwarts 1971

**Chapter 3: Train to Hogwarts 1971**

Hermione grinned with her brothers as they posed for the picture. Their parents looked stoic as the public image demanded of them, but Hermione, Sirius, and Regulus were hardly going to step up the formality of a public face at the age of ten and eleven with all the excitement running through their veins.

She kept waiting for the panic attack. She kept waiting for the truth to sink in and have a tried and true emotional breakdown. She'd been erased off the face time and injected into the House of Black. Wasn't that deserving of a little freak out session and not just a fainting spell? But something was keeping her from it. Something was making her eerily calm. Was it part of the cursed wish that did so? Or was it something else? She had become, after the years, quite unflappable, but surely whatever had happened to her was something significant enough to deserve an equal amount of distress. Yet, the distress never came, and that baffled her more than the displacement of herself.

Regulus pouted that he wasn't able to go with them, but Hermione and Sirius promised him that they would ride together next year. Regulus hugged his sister right, smiling at her. "I'll miss you, sis," he beamed at her.

"I'll miss you too, little brother," Hermione said.

"You'll send me owls, right?" Regulus begged. "You'll remember?"

"Of course, Reg," Hermione grinned at him. "I'll send Sagacity at the oddest hours I can manage, okay?"

"Okay!" Regulus nodded. "Don't forget, sis!"

"I promise to write," Hermione hugged him tight.

"You'll send me something Slytherin, right?" Regulus begged. "A goblet or a quill? Maybe a scarf?"

"Regulus Arcturus Black!" Hermione scolded.

Her brother grinned impishly at her, kissed her on the cheek, and stood by his mother with an innocent look upon his face.

Hermione didn't believe it in the slightest. She'd grown up with the Weasley twins. He had nothing on them for mischief.

Walburga lifted her chin imperiously, waiting for her hug. Hermione put her arms around the elder witch and hugged her tightly, and Walburga wrapped her arm around her Hogwarts bound daughter. "You will make us proud, daughter," she said imperiously.

"Yes, mother," Hermione answered, averting her eyes in deference.

Walburga released her, stiffly, but Hermione saw something flash across the Black matron's face. She was torn emotionally that her children were leaving the nest for the first time.

Orion's face was more warm, despite the attempt to be detached in public. He embraced his daughter, whispering in to her ear. "Good luck, my phoenix," he whispered into her ear. "I love you."

Hermione felt the warmth from her father and grinned at him. "I love you, Pappa!"

Hermione grabbed her trunk, making sure Sagacity's cage was put on top safely. The eagle owl hooted softly, excited to be on the move.

"Come on, sis!" Sirius yelled at her, waving her onto the train.

Walburga huffed, averting her eyes, but Hermione dashed off to board the train, allowing Sirius to pull her and her stuff onto the train with an excited whoop.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was automatic, Hermione realised, to go to the same car she always did. Six years of riding the Hogwarts Express both towards and away had the phantom past muscle memory letting her feet do the walking without conscious thought. All seemed perfectly normal until her feet brought her to a car that was already full. Baffled for a moment, she slunk further down the car and into the next, unsure where to put herself. She realised, suddenly, that she had expected Harry and Ron to already be there waiting for her. Whoever it was that was there was not, nor would it have been for another twenty some years. That should bother her, she realised. Why didn't it?

The Hogwarts Express seemed to inspire a certain amount of cliquishness that centred around year and House, with those who were not affiliated being left to fend for themselves, usually ending up huddling together in a random car together. Even then, groups formed within groups.

Sirius, self-proclaimed social butterfly, started fluttering about the moment his things were shoved up into the luggage racks. Hermione shook her head as her brother trundled off to do his thing.

Hermione sighed and looked out the window as the train began to move out of the station.

There was a rattle of the sliding door latch, and it slid partially open.

"All the other cars are full, Sev," a red-headed female admonished. "We can at least ask if the seats are taken."

A bushy haired red-headed girl poked her head into the compartment. Her bright green eyes—Harry's eyes— stared into Hermione's pale grey ones. "Hi, um, my name is Lily. This is Sev. May we join you? The other compartments are full."

Hermione was silent at first, but managed a smile. She gestured to the empty seat. "I'm Hermione," she said softly. "Please, sit."

Lily pulled her companion in behind her like a piece of temperamental luggage that did not want to fit through the door. She stuffed her bags up into the luggage rack and sat down awkwardly.

Sagacity hooted softly from his cage.

"Oh my! An owl! Is he yours?" Lily gasped as she peered into the cage. "She's beautiful!"

Hermione chuckled. "Don't let him know you just called him a female," she said with a smirk. "I won't be responsible for lost fingers."

Lily's eyes widened until she saw Hermione's smile. "Oh!" she began to laugh. "I'm sorry, it's just… all of this is so new to me."

Severus shot Lily a worried look as his eyes flicked from her to Hermione. He was clearly trying to evaluate something.

Hermione reached over and undid the latch on the cage door, letting Sagacity step out onto the opening. He hooted softly and fluttered his wings. "His name is Sagacity. He's an Eurasian Eagle Owl."

"He has such beautiful eyes," Lily said.

"I thought so too," Hermione replied. "His claws are sharp, but here," she said as she tossed her a falconry glove. "If you put this on you can have him step up onto your fist and you can pet him. He likes to be scratched on the feathers above his legs."

Sagacity, to his credit and experience, was completely aware of where he put his talons and how not to draw blood, but he was a predator with equally predatory talons, and the glove proved to be a good way to let the owl, himself, relax a little. Hermione had a feeling the glove would make Lily feel better as well, considering one of Sagacity's talons was half the length of her face.

Lily, wide-eyed, put on the glove and made a fist, setting it in front of the huge owl.

Sagacity turned his eyes towards Hermione as if to ask permission to stand upon someone else's hand, and Hermione nodded to him. "Go on," Hermione encouraged.

Sagacity stepped up onto Lily's fist and the girl practically fell over due to the huge birds added mass.

Hermione held out a owl nut. "Here, he likes these too."

Lily struggled to keep her hand up, but managed. She took the owl nut in her opposite hand and held it out to Sagacity, who, in turn, made it disappear in record time.

Lily turned to Severus and smiled hugely, and the black-haired wizard shifted uncomfortably.

Hermione recognised less than practised social skills all too well. It was like watching herself her first year… well what had been her first year. Future first year? Oh, she was never going to get that right in her head.

Hermione turned her grey eyes to Severus. It was disconcerting to see such a young and vulnerable Severus Snape. Young, awkward, and socially ignorant. At least Lily knew how to break the ice.

"Lily called you Sev," Hermione said conversationally. "Is that short for something?"

He fidgeted again. "Severus," he replied. "Severus Snape."

Hermione held out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Severus Snape," she said with her fully drilled Black manners in high gear. "I am Hermione Black."

Severus seemed unsure of what to do with the offered hand and awkwardly took her fingers and shook them then releasing them.

Hermione's flattened lips curved upward into an amused smirk. Lucius Malfoy he was definitely not.

"I'm Lily Evans," the red-headed witch said, still stroking Sagacity's breast feathers with fascination. The eagle owl seemed content enough to allow her such things.

"Pleased to meet you as well, Lily Evans," Hermione said formally.

Harry's future mother seemed, at least from first impressions, a kindly enough girl. She obviously thought the world of Severus Snape at this moment in time, and part of Hermione wondered how their friendship had soured so significantly from such ease to repudiation.

Snape and Hermione had conversed quite a bit, or as much as a witch and a portrait could converse. Hermione had spent countless hours in Minerva's Headmistress' office doing even more countless tasks for the busy Scottish witch. Severus, the portrait, had actually been the only portrait that seemed to sense Hermione's loneliness. He had, in his own way, provided a sort of companionship that had made her wish wistfully to have gotten to know the real man. They discussed theory for hours at a time, argued over spell casting nuances, and he had even offered pointers on certain spells. However, when Minerva returned to the office, Severus clammed up, turning his back to the room. Minerva and Severus' falling out had never been resolved while the man was alive. His portrait, unfortunately, still held a grudge.

The candy trolley was coming around, and a cheerful elderly woman poked her head in. "Sweets of the trolley, dears?" she asked.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that both Lily and Severus were looking forlornly at the sweets, but both seemed saddened.

Hermione tilted her head slightly, and rustled in her robes for a couple of coins and handed them to the kindly woman. "Whatever that will give us, if you would please," Hermione said.

The woman grinned at her and picked a little bit of everything off the cart and piled it on the nearby seat. "There you go, dears. Enjoy."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hermione said, and the lady closed the compartment door and moved on down the line.

"Well," Hermione said, picking up a chocolate frog box. "Help me eat it, won't you? I can't very well eat the entire pile by myself. It would be unseemly."

Lily grinned at her and dug right in with a pumpkin pasty after transferring Sagacity onto his cage to perch. Severus seemed to be conflicted, but finally couldn't take it anymore and snatched a box for a chocolate frog.

"Thank you!" Lily exclaimed in between bites.

Severus stared at her with his black eyes. "Thank you," he said softly before biting into his chocolate frog.

Hermione let a smile creep over her face. "You're welcome." She looked out the window to watch the landscape zoom by. Hogwarts. She was coming home again. She kept waiting for that other foot to drop and the hurricane of emotions connected with her current situation to sweep her up and convince her train car mates that she was completely and utterly mental, but there was none. Perhaps, at Hogwarts, she would have time to figure out why. It wasn't like she needed help remembering how to turn a mouse into a matchstick anymore. She was going to have a lot of free time to brood over it.

A new part of her perked at the thought of having time to do something other than study, and the part of her that was Hermione Granger stifled that chain of thinking quickly. The nagging that was an eleven year old Hermione Black, however, was excited for the chance to make new friends.

Hermione looked towards the young Lily Evans and Severus Snape. No time like the present, right? Whatever present that may be.

"Would you like to be friends?" Hermione spilt out at once. Way to be blunt, Hermione, she chided herself.

Lily's broad smile was all Hermione needed, however.

Severus looked absolutely terrified.

"Of course!" Lily gushed, she elbowed Severus with a widening of her eyes.

"Y…es," the boy managed to say.

Hermione leaned over and tossed Lily and Severus some candy from the pile. "Excellent."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Just a quickie for all you wonderful reviewers. I needed a distraction from my exam, which I passed by the skin of my teeth. (Odd expression, considering teeth do not have an epidermis… but I digress.)

In response to a guest commenting on Hermione not having an emotional response about being temporally displaced, she's fully aware there SHOULD be something of a response, but it is not coming. Perhaps, in a way, it is shock. Perhaps it is something deeper. She is, now, blood bound to the Black family. What brought her here was heavy magic, sealed in her blood and Ron's very dire intent. It was heavily implied that Ron wished her dead in that angry moment, but life and the fabric of magic, perhaps, had other ideas for Hermione. Also, she is a phoenix. She is fated, ever since she came into her form, to be reborn and rise from the ashes of her past—something she may learn as time goes on is that she cannot escape that aspect of herself. We shall see, yes?


	4. The Sorting 1971

**Chapter 4: The Sorting 1971**

Hermione felt a sort of indescribable relief as she sat in the boat going towards Hogwarts. The rest of the first years seemed awed by the sight, and she could not blame them. She remembered exactly what the sight of Hogwarts had done to her in 1991. Hogwarts was, would, or whenever be a sight to be seen.

It was odd seeing someone other than Hagrid tending the boats with the first years in it. So many years had passed where Hagrid was the only always welcoming face in troubled times.

The professor that was escorting the first years, who introduced himself as Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, was apparently the resident professor of Care of Magical Creatures. He was a wiry and older wizard, who seemed quite displaced around people. He had a hat on his head with a nest in the middle, and seemed perfectly okay with the entire situation, even while all the first years took turns giving him critical and curious looks. His personal appearance seemed more like a man who slept in the barn with his animals than a typical professor, and Hermione would have given a lot at that moment to sent a photo to Harry with a note asking him "you thought Professor Snape had greasy hair, you should have met THIS guy!"

Hermione's mind shuffled through a large amount of various factoids and dates, trying to put together if Hagrid would be on the grounds this particular year. He wouldn't be teaching until around 1994, as she recalled that was when Kettleburn retired, but he should still be the grounds keeper. Somewhere, someplace, there was a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ just waiting for her to stick her nose into it.

Hermione turned to see Lily staring wide-eyed at the castle. She looked absolutely dreamy at the sight before her, and the corner of Hermione's lips curved upward. Such wonder was to be cherished. Childish innocence was something to be treasured even more so in a time where war loomed on the horizon, and there was a part of Hermione that wished she had been allowed more of a childhood her first time around.

She lifted her head as she watched the familiar form of Fawkes flitting around the towers and ramparts of Hogwarts, and she longed to stretch her wings once more, ride on Minerva's shoulder as she patrolled the corridors, and sing her songs over Black Lake.

Eyes were upon her, and she turned her head. Severus was staring at her intently. Hermione lifted a brow at him, unconsciously giving him one of his older self's expressions.

"Sickle for your thoughts, Severus," Hermione said softly.

"You look… relieved," he said after a moment.

Hermione looked down and then back at the future Potion Master. "I suppose I am."

"Most people would not consider going to school a… relief," he said carefully. It seemed a struggle for him to speak to her.

Hermione's corner of the mouth twitched upward. "There are times I prefer books to people," she confessed. "Books do not judge if I do not understand their entirety. I can come back to them tomorrow or six years from now, and they will welcome me the same. Might as well do my learning here. Just look at this place. Even the walls tell stories. Imagine what they have seen."

Her words seems to have an effect on the withdrawn young wizard and he nodded silently. Lily was staring at her intently. "What if I don't fit in?" Lily said with worry. "What if I'm not really a witch?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "That's nonsense," she said. "If you weren't a witch, you wouldn't have gotten a letter. I'm betting you could always do things even when you were younger. Make flowers bloom. Summon breezes when none were there before? Such magic is in you, Severus, and me. It is the same. It sings in our blood. It makes you a witch or a wizard. But Hogwarts… Hogwarts will teach us how to control it. It will teach all of us how to be more. You are already fitting in."

"You sound like one of my old teachers back in school," Lily said, but she was smiling.

Hermione scoffed. She had no idea. She had apprenticed under Minerva McGonagall, master of the strict teaching demeanour and stern scowl of "it will be done or heads will roll." Sounding like a teacher was a bit too normal for her. Realising that sounding like a teacher as an eleven year old was probably a little creepy, Hermione broke out into a disarming grin instead, causing Lily to giggle.

The boats were landing on the shoreline, and the torches were beginning to ignite to light the path up to the main gates. Hermione's nostrils flared as the scent of the lake blew up the path. She leapt up from the boat and stood on the landing with excitement, holding her hand out to Lily to help her out.

Lily grasped her hand shakily, and took a hesitant step to the landing. She stared up the long stairway with wide eyes. Hermione held out her hand to Severus. He stared at her hand as though it were going to shift into a serpent and bite him, but after a few moments, took it, allowing Hermione to pull him up.

It was surreal being back at Hogwarts that had never been attacked by Death Eaters. There were no scars marking the surface of Hogwarts to indicate the years spend rebuilding it. The wards were strong an had the original signature of magic upon them. The energy of Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall no longer entwined together in the signature of the wards. The non-apparate jinx was in full force, no longer attuned to allow her passage.

Minerva. She would have to call her Professor McGonagall again. The elder witch would no longer know her. A twinge of pain flashed across her face. They had been practically inseparable colleagues and friends. Minerva had been motherly as her Master, and she had filled a gaping hole in Hermione's life after she had her falling out with her parents after her sending them off to Australia. Her relationship with her parents had never recovered, but they were alive, and Hermione thanked Merlin for that every day after the war, even when her pain of losing them to mistrust and inability to wrap their minds around the extent of what she was willing to do to save them. Hermione felt the first true tug of regret and anguish in her chest thinking about the loss of her relationship with Minerva and the bond they shared as Master and Apprentice.

"Hermione, come on," Lily said, tugging her arm and dragging her up the stairs.

Hermione wiped her eyes with her hands and attempted to centre herself.

Severus was looking at her. His black eyes asked so many questions.

Hermione turned her head away and sniffed, shaking her head.

"There you are, twin," Sirius yelled as he slammed into her from behind. "James, Remus, Peter, come meet my sister."

Hermione stiffened the moment Peter's name hit her ears.

"Hermione, these are my new mates, James, Remus, and Peter."

"Charmed," Hermione said stiffly, clenching her teeth to keep from launching herself at Peter Pettigrew. Oh what she wanted to do with him. It didn't matter at that moment that Peter Pettigrew was innocent of doing everything he had done in Hermione's original life. It was because of him that Harry had been forced to live under a staircase with the Dursleys. A stab of pain hit her as memories of Harry sneaked into the cracks in her emotions thanks to her reminiscing about Minerva and the Grangers.

Hermione lifted her head imperiously, channelling her genetic inheritance to Walburga Black.

"Don't be like that, sis," Sirius huffed. "We're going to be seeing a lot of each other! We'll be lounging in the Gryffindor Common Room after the Feast with all sorts of new mates."

"I may be your twin, Sirius," Hermione said with a deadpan expression, "but that does not make your interests my own. Allow me to at least make my own friends before you assume your friends will just saunter up and take me in."

"Oooh," said the black-haired wizard who looked so much like Harry. "She's a spitfire."

The boy with light brown hair and scars across his face fidgeted with discomfort. He put his hand on James' shoulder, muttering something. His green eyes flicked to Hermione almost apologetically. Young Remus Lupin. Hermione started to loosen her tense stance, but then a boy with mousy brown hair and blue eyes looked at her with a smirk on his face. "You're right, James."

Hermione stiffened. Her body tensed. Harry had once said that he had seen into Snape's memories during their Occlumency lessons. What he had seen had shaken him. His father, who was praised by so many, had been a horrible person as a teenager. James Potter, much to Harry's shame, had been the type of bully that made him ashamed he had so blindly believed in his father being a great man. It had been Hermione that had talked him down into believing that people could change. James Potter had given his life for his wife and son. He may have been a horrible excuse for a teenager, but he had loved Harry and his mother.

However, all these glimpses of the future meant nothing. Right now, James Potter was an arrogant git, and his newly formed group of fledgling Marauders were not far behind.

"Come on, Sirius," Peter whined. "Why don't you introduce us properly to your bird?" He came up with a large helping of false bravado thanks to his friends, but what he had said seemed to shake Sirius out of whatever macho daze he had been wallowing in. Sirius stiffened.

Peter made a move to touch Hermione, and in that moment multiple things happened.

Hermione curled her lip back in disgust and stepped back. Severus and Lily tugged her back to them with Severus standing in front of her in his first display of pure anger, and Sirius stood in front of his twin sister with fire in his eyes.

"You will treat my sister with the respect she deserves, Peter Pettigrew," Sirius snarled, a hint of his father dripped venom into his words. "She is not my bird, nor is she yours that you can presume to touch without her permission."

Peter groveled. "Come on, Sirius. You know I didn't mean it like that." He clutched his hands together in a way that reminded Hermione so much of his older self when Remus and Sirius had turned him back into a human in the Shrieking Shack.

Sirius' transformation from jester who teased his sister into the face of wrath that protected her was a balance with a very clear line. He was allowed to tease his sister and push her buttons, but these new friends of his were not on the safe list. They had not proven themselves worthy. He glared into the face of Peter Pettigrew with the very incarnation of rage.

Peter stepped back, casting his eyes down, unable to meet the fury in Sirius' eyes.

Hermione placed her hand on Severus' shoulder. "Let's go, Severus," she said softly, her teeth clenched together. She patted Lily's hand that was tugging on her with frantic concern.

Severus' dark eyes flicked from the gang of Marauders and Hermione and then he relaxed slightly. He followed Hermione and Lily up the stairs towards Hogwarts.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall announced. She was wearing the same pointed hat with feathers that Hermione remembered from the first time around. Part of Hermione wondered if she wore the same outfit for the Welcome Feast on purpose. Minerva had on a dignified green velvet robe and a silver cloak pin that shimmered with opal inlay that was both shiny and attractive. "Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your Houses, They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you're here, your House will be like your family. Your triumphs will gain you points. Any rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup. The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily." (HPSS) Minerva shambled past the doors into the Great Hall, probably to make sure everything was ready for the new students to enter.

Hermione felt a pang of loss as she stared after the Deputy Headmistress. She missed Minerva and the closeness they shared.

"Four Houses?" Lily whispered nervously. "What House do you think I'll be in?

"Whatever House you'll be in will be lucky to have you, Lily," Hermione reassured her.

"I'm so nervous," she confessed, clinging to Severus' robe sleeve in her panic.

"Lily," Hermione admonished. "You'll be fine."

Hermione saw Severus giving Lily a sympathetic and pained look. He knew the same thing Hermione did. The chances of a Muggle-born watch being sorted into Salazar's House was not likely. That wasn't the only thing, however, as trait wise, Lily was about as far away from being on Slytherin's list of admirable traits as Harry Potter would be in Hufflepuff.

"We'll still be able to be friends, right?" Lily squeaked. "Even if we are in different Houses?"

She looked at Severus and Hermione with a pleading expression.

"Of course," Hermione said with a sniff.

Severus nodded to Lily silently.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and McGonagall waved them in. "We're ready for you, come, come," she said.

The ceiling of the Great Hall captured Lily the moment her eyes set upon it. She stared at it with wonder, practically tripping into Severus, and then backed up into Hermione. Childlike wonder apparently trumped out dexterous grace.

They managed to walk down the main aisles without taking out their fellow students, which was a miracle in itself. Hermione looked wistfully at the Gryffindor tables where she, Harry, Ron, Neville, the twins, and Seamus spent countless hours together. But the faces she saw at the tables as she walked by were not familiar. There was no welcome there.

The Sorting Hat was singing its songs as it always did, and Hermione boggled that the hat managed to make up different songs every year. It was a pretty large accomplishment for a hat.

Albus Dumbledore, slightly less silvery in the beard, made the yearly announcements. The Forbidden Forest was still forbidden. Some wing or another was off limits. First years were not allowed to have broomsticks. No magic in the corridors. Hermione yawned. Even as a professor, she found the yearly announcements worth of a yawn or two.

Minerva stood in the middle of the platform next to a stool, the Sorting Hat dangling in her hand. "Now when I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the Sorting Hat upon your head, and you will be sorted into your Houses," McGonagall said.

"Hermione Black," McGonagall called, and Hermione had a strange sense of being the first one called up déjà vu.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the stool and sat down.

The Sorting Hat settled upon her head like an old friend, and she felt the tingle in her mind as it perused her head for what he needed to make its decision.

"Hrm," the hat said. "Difficult. Bravery, no doubt. Intelligence, definitely. Loyalty. Cunning. Drive to achieve your goals. Hrm. Hrm."

The hat grumbled on top of her head for quite a bit, and Hermione could feel eyes upon her. Lovely. She was causing a hat-stall. That was just what she needed to start off her second career at Hogwarts.

"Slytherin!" the hat announced joyously, happy with itself.

Hermione's eyes bulged out of her head. What!

There was applause coming from the Slytherin tables, and Hermione found herself sitting at the "enemies'" table for the first time in her life.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Hermione," Lucius voice purred at her as he tilted his head to her.

Hermione bowed her head to Lucius automatically. "Lucius," she greeted him in return.

Sirius was on the stool this time, and the moment it hit his hair, the hat proclaimed, "Gryffindor!"

Hermione felt a pang of loss from the part of her that was Hermione Ankaa Black. They had grown up together, and now, despite the fact that part of her knew it was going to happen, there was no denying that her twin brother was more different than her than she cared to admit.

When Lily's turn was up and the hat cheerfully proclaimed, "Gryffindor!" Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew Severus would be having pangs of regret that he would be separate from his childhood friend. She wondered if it was like being separated from your twin for the first time.

When Severus was proclaimed Slytherin, the Slytherin table erupted in happy cheers yet again, and Severus took a seat next to Hermione. He looked over his shoulder towards the Gryffindor tables, watching Lily being greeted by James and Sirius. It took everything in her repertoire to keep from willing Peter Pettigrew into flames from her glare alone. Backstabbing rat.

Hermione, not one to forget her manners, introduced Severus to Lucius, knowing that her doing so would put him under her wing, so to speak, even though she was first year. It was something she knew Lucius would understand.

"Severus, this is," Hermione choked on the word friend as part of her refused to let that pass her lips, "Lucius Malfoy. Lucius, this is my friend Severus Snape."

Lucius tilted his head in greeting, his grey eyes looking down his finely chiselled nose in a very typical Malfoy manner. "Welcome to Slytherin, Severus. If you have any questions, I will assist you, if I can."

Severus nodded silently.

The rest of the Sorting went through quickly, and the Welcome Feast was full of all the tasty foods Hermione remembered and adored. Severus looked like he'd never seen so much food before in once place in his life, while Lucius picked at his food with a fork with the kind of manners one would expect from the elder Lucius Malfoy.

By the time everyone was told to retreat to their dormitories, the only thing that kept Hermione from auto-piloting to the Gryffindor tower was Lucius weaving out in front of her and "herding" her back in the right direction with his body. It was actually quite subtle as to not make her lose face in front of the others, but Hermione made a mental note to herself that she had to start paying better attention to where her feet here going.

Sagacity hooted happily to her as she found her bed, and she was changed into her night clothes and curled up go to sleep before she could even realise her head had hit the pillow. Sagacity perched on her bedside table, sitting atop her copy of _Hogwarts: a History_, seemingly content to keep her company instead of flying off to get to know the other school owls.

She curled up under the warm duvet, blissfully oblivious to the world as sleep dragged her under.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**A/N:** I need hand from someone who knows Marauder time period better than I do. Who are the Slytherin in the House during the time of the Marauders? I know Lucius is in his fifth year by the time Hermione and Severus have their first year, and Avery and Mulciber are for sure of the right "time" because Lily loathes them in canon. Bellatrix is already graduated by then, and so would be the Lestrages, I presume. So that leaves…. Bartemius (Barty) Crouch Junior… and that's where my brain kinda skids to a halt and crashes into things.

When I think of Kettleburn, I think of Radagast the Brown from Lord of the Rings (with a birdnest in his hair)- more attuned to beast animals than the human animal. I'm not sure how Hermione is going to get on with Professor Kettleburn. He's apparently a man with more probations and lost limbs than any other professor. I have to wonder if the reason Hagrid was so well accepted was because Kettleburn was a menace to everyone including himself. (I consider this even more sad considering what a disregard Hagrid had for the safety of students with his crusade to support "misunderstood creatures" that truly do just want to eat the student body (ie the accromantula colony)


	5. Letters From Home

**A/N:** **Hwyla:** You are correct about Kettleburn, but my sleepy brain honestly just remembered Hagrid in the position thanks to the holes in the first movies. Good catch.

That being said: Onward.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**Chapter 5: Letters from Home**

My Darling Daughter,

You have done your family proud in being Sorted into the Slytherin House at Hogwarts. It gratifies me to know that you have kept with the traditions of the Black family, unlike your most rebellious and aggravating twin, who seems concerned only in his biting his thumb at our family at every possible opportunity.

Your cousin, Narcissa, should be the same house as you. As I recall the witch is four years your senior. I have not spoken with Cygnus and Druella recently, as they are currently travelling abroad, but I am sure the two of you will meet soon. Do send her and her parents my regards.

Regulus sends his affection and thanks for the scarf sent in the middle of the night. The boy refuses to take it off, even inside the house, and I fear you have created a horrible monster in your younger brother.

Kreacher wished to send you a few batches of your favourite cookies. I will be sending them in smaller batches as to not overburden the owls with the entirety of the horde of baked goods all at once.

I expect great things from you, daughter. Do not let us down.

Your mother,

Walburga Black (Seal of the House of Black)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

Dear Hermione,

Ah, my young phoenix, have you spread your wings now that you have been sorted properly into the Slytherin House? Your mother was greatly pleased that you were sorted as befits our family history, and it was the that which tempered her wrath upon discovering that your twin was sorted into Gryffindor.

I believe you will have a wonderful time while at Hogwarts. In a few years you will allowed to visit the small village of Hogsmeade on weekends, and I'm sure you will love the quaint little shops that mark its streets.

If you will forgive your concerned father, I would ask you to humour me in the keeping an eye on your wayward twin. He is reckless and angry that our family history stains his reputation to stand on his own. I fear this will only make the relationship with his mother even more strained, but I hope your accomplishments distract her anger and tears and keep her from breaking more of the family's three hundred year old China. I have become quite adept at repair charms, my phoenix. You would be proud of me. I blame the 11 years repairing the stuffed animal heads you so defiantly ripped off their shoulders when the bedtime stories did not agree with your delicate sensibilities.

I am proud of you, my young chick. I look forward to tales of your exploits when you come home for Winter Break.

Your father,

Orion Black (His seal, the belt of Orion)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

"Hermione?" A voice came just before a wavy head of blond hair followed shortly after. "It's your cousin, Narcissa."

"Hello," Hermione answered blearily. She folded up the letters that had arrived on her duvet before she had been awake. Her hurried parcel to Regulus must have caused her little brother to blab the news as he ran around the house with a Slytherin scarf wrapped around his neck. The image amused her. She absently fed Sagacity a frog leg from the jar on the bed-side table, and the owl hooted in gratitude, clinging to her shoulder and sharing his warmth by leaning against her head.

"I didn't get to meet up with you last night during the feast," Narcissa said cheerfully. "Are you settled in all right?"

Hermione nodded.

"Parents already send owls?" Narcissa said with a grin. "My parents did the same my first year. They buried my mattress in bonbons."

"Bonbons?" Hermione asked with a giggle.

"Looks like you got cookies," Narcissa chuckled, pointing to the open box of cookies.

Hermione pushed the box towards her. "Help yourself. I don't have that many people to share them with, and apparently Kreacher made a lot."

"That house-elf must adore you," Narcissa cooed. "My older sister Bella… she had a bad row with a few of our house-elves when she was younger. To this day, they bring her food at the barest minimum of quality."

Hermione's eyes widened, not so much at the story, but the sudden realisation that she was now blood related to what would most likely be the wife of Lucius Malfoy and the insane witch named Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You look panicked, Hermione," Narcissa said. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, thanks," Hermione stammered.

"However did you manage it?" Narcissa asked.

"Manage what?" Hermione asked.

"Manage to be named Hermione instead of a constellation?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione blushed. "Father says it was because they messed up my birth certificate and put my middle name first. By the time they realised it, it had already been sealed in magic."

Narcissa laughed whole-heartedly. "That's quite a story. I'm sure your mother was fit to be tied."

"Father thought it was hilarious… well when not in public," Hermione answered.

Narcissa grinned. "We're in the same House both in name and at school. I'm sure you'll love it here. I'm across the hall, second bed on the left. Feel free to come see me if you need any help with anything, okay? I'm sure His Majesty Malfoy has already told you you can go to him if you have any concerns as well." Narcissa grinned at her.

Hermione nodded and grinned.

"He's a bit too concerned with his duties as Prefect," Narcissa complained. "He's been guiding all the first years around like baby ducks at my parent's summer cottage."

Hermione looked down, suppressing a giggle.

"How did you manage not to have any dorm-mates?" Narcissa boggled. "You're so lucky! I sleep next to Ashlee and Cherrill, and they both snore like Kneazle with a cold. Imogen, on the other hand, she talks in her sleep. She spits out Arithmancy equations when she's asleep."

Hermione practically spit out the bit of cookie she was eating, quickly covering up her mouth in an effort to be polite.

"What's your first class after breakfast?"

"Transfiguration," Hermione said.

"Ugh, with that strict bat of a professor, McGonagall," Narcissa scoffed. "She doesn't let you get away at anything. I think it's because we're Slytherin and she's Gryffindor."

Hermione frowned. Minerva did support her House in many ways, but she had always been fair. She even took points from her own House when they committed rule-breaking.

"You know," Narcissa confessed, "My parents were always so isolationist. I'm angry that we never got to meet before this. Turns out my cousin had to turn eleven and get Sorted into Hogwarts before I get to sit down and have a conversation."

"Technically you're standing," Hermione said dryly, arching a brow.

"Oh hush," Narcissa groaned. "Don't tell me you're going to be one of those girls that picks on me for technicalities of the English language."

Hermione smirked. There was something oddly cathartic about correcting Narcissa over technicalities. Take that, Draco Malfoy.

"Bellatrix would pick on me all the time," Narcissa sighed. "She said it was given right as my older sister."

"Sounds like a piece of work, that one," Hermione said and meant it.

Narcissa nodded. "She's the one that got Andromeda in trouble so many times over the stupidest things. Like not wearing a long enough dress in public, showing the ankles, things like that. Every time she could. Have you met Andromeda yet? She's in her sixth year. Almost out of this place."

Hermione shook her head in negative. Part of her wondered where the chatty little know-it-all had gone. She was doing a lot of head nodding and shaking instead of talking Narcissa's ears off.

Narcissa ran her hand in her hair. "I worry about Andromeda, to be honest. Bella is going to drive her to do something drastic. I don't know what, but I can see it in her eyes. The hatred… Bella loves to pick at wounds… and she doesn't know when to stop."

Hermione tilted her head. Bellatrix apparently had issues long before Azkaban was on the table. It didn't really surprise her, but she filed it away in her brain for future reference all the same.

Hermione boggled how her own brain was dealing with her predicament. She wondered how she be so calm sitting in the Slytherin House dormitories, chatting it up with Narcissa possible the future Malfoy, accept the fact that Lucius was looking out for her like some wayward bodyguard, and actually be okay with it.

Hermione Granger would be tearing out her bushy hair, but whatever she had become, seemed to be more accepting under the situation. The future Lucius had committed horrible crimes against Muggle borns under the banner of the Dark Lord. The future Narcissus would support him up until her son was danger and miraculously cover for Harry Potter during the final battle… all for the love of her son. All these thoughts swirled around in her mind, fluctuating in and out of her mind in various states of clarity.

Hermione smiled at Narcissa, offering her another cookie before closing the box to carry it with her. Sagacity clung to her shoulder, making it known that she wasn't going anywhere without him.

"You're a bit heavy, you know," Hermione told the owl. "Why couldn't I have gotten a screech owl?"

Sagacity hooted in her ear indignantly, causing Hermione to grin.

"He's beautiful," Narcissa cooed.

"His name is Sagacity," Hermione said pleasantly. "He likes to be scratched right here." She scratched the area behind his ear tufts.

Narcissa carefully scratched the owl on the head, gaining a soft hoot of pleasure. "He must adore you. My family's House owl just ignores us most of the time unless it's time to deliver something. He laid open Bella's finger once because she poked him."

"I see a trend," Hermione chuckled.

"She's a bit special, my older sister," Narcissa said with a grin. "I need to go wake up the girls for breakfast. See you there?"

"Probably," Hermione said with a smirk. "Unless I'm overcome by wrackspurts."

Narcissa made an odd face at her.

Hermione snorted. "Long story." She stood, steadying herself as Sagacity gripped her shoulder with half clenched claws. "See you later, Narcissa," she said as she shuffled out of the room.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

"Argh, my lungs," Hermione protested, as Sagacity perched his entire four kilo weight on her ribcage. Hermione wheezed and failed to dislodge the eagle owl from her chest. He was, undoubtedly, huge and a prime specimen of health. "You are cutting off my air."

Hoot.

"Oh thanks for that," Hermione laid her head back on the couch she was sprawled on.

Despite the one-sided conversation, Hermione felt the bond between herself and Sagacity growing steadily. The familiar bond was something special. Technically, Hogwarts encouraged their students to bring familiars, but few of the animals brought to Hogwarts were true familiars. Crookshanks, with whom she was undoubtedly close, had been a highly intelligent friend and ally, but the half-Kneazle had not formed the actual familiar bond with her. She could never sense where he was or pick up on his feelings. She could only glean what he deigned to give her, and there were many occasions when Crooks had done exactly the opposite of what she had wanted to do, such as not eat Fred and George's extendable ears.

She had highly suspected the Hedwig had been bonded to Harry as his familiar. The owl's love for Harry had ended only with her death, and Harry's haunted expression when he thought after her sacrifice seemed to point to a far deeper bond than friendship. Had she survived that battle, it was very likely that the owl would have lived as long as Harry, her life-force tied to the messy haired wizard until the day he passed into the next world.

Sagacity flopped on her chest, wings outspread. He smashed his face into her cheek and hooted. Hermione wrapped her arms around the huge owl, feeling the growing thrum of the owl's personality flowing into her. She felt his amusement at her predicament as well as his growing devotion.

Hermione ran her hand down the owl's velvet feathers, half closing her eyes.

"Can you breathe?" a male voice asked.

Hermione opened her eyes. "Somewhat," she answered. "Good morning, Severus."

The dark-haired wizard smirked at her. "He's as big as half your body," he commented.

"He's heavier," Hermione coughed.

Sagacity hooted loudly into her face.

"There are cookies in the box there," Hermione said, gesturing with her arm randomly. "Help yourself."

"Cookies… for breakfast?" Severus asked.

"I won't tell if you don't," Hermione chuckled. "Save one for Lily, though."

Severus opened the box and extracted a cookie. "Thank you," he said, nibbling on it.

"Did you want to go to breakfast?" Hermione asked, rolling up into a sitting position and transferring Sagacity to her shoulder.

"Cookies not enough?" Severus asked her.

"Never," Hermione grinned.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

Breakfast was alive with chatter from the first years on how their first night was. Hermione and Severus sat at the end of the table doing their best to avoid the excited conversation.

Hermione passed Lily the box of leftover cookies from home, and Lily squealed in delight as she pushed her breakfast aside for the chocolate chip cookies.

Sirius and James made a pest of themselves trying to convince the red-haired witch to part with at least one of the extra cookies, but Lily glared at them, guarding the box fiercely.

Sirius narrowed his eyes as he looked at the familiar wrapped box and gave Hermione his best pouting face. He knew the box had come from home, and he knew there were tasty goods inside.

Hermione flicked a cookie up between her fingers, waving it as she idly forked her sausage, eating some and passing a bit off to Sagacity.

Sirius went down on his knees, shamelessly groveling at his sister's school robes, reciting Shakespeare about her beauty.

Hermione pshed, but set the cookie into his hands, after which her twin picked her up, swirled her around, planted a kiss upon her forehead, and scampered back to the Gryffindor table with his prize. James tried to convince Sirius to share, but Sirius was not in the mood to share his hard-won prize, and proceeded to devour it while his jealous Housemates watched. Eyes went to Lily and her prized box, but the red-headed witch narrowed her eyes at them, guarding her box from their envious gazes.

Severus stared at her with an expression poised between disbelief and pity. "Are you sure you share the same genetics?"

Hermione chuckled as she drank her juice. "Not always."

"Maybe he was adopted," Severus quipped, taking a bite out of his pancake.

Hermione snorted into her orange juice at the thought. The part of her that was Hermione Ankaa Black was laughing hysterically.

The owls came in with the morning mail shortly after Hermione and Severus had completely annihilated an entire plate of sausage links amongst themselves. They had made a pile of breakfast sandwiches using the biscuits, eggs, and sausage, and had almost succeeded in making them all disappear before Hermione confessed that she was stuffed and that her mother would surely yell at her for engaging in such unladylike eating mannerisms. She had nothing on the once and future Ronald Weasley's eating habits, but she'd practically inhaled half of a serving tray of sausage links. She blamed it on the stress of coming to Hogwarts. It sounded good in theory.

Hermione opened the wax seal on the letter that dropped in front of her, and she smirked the moment she realised who had sent it.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

Dear Sis,

Thank you so much for the scarf! I love it. I'm wearing it now, and I refuse to take it off. Mother is furious because she says it is not appropriate breakfast attire. I say it looks just fine for breakfast, thank you!

Just as a warning. I'm sending this short and quick so you have a heads up… Mother is sending Sirius a howler. I can hear her yelling at the paper now. You might want to… hide under the table or something. As it is… I'm going to go hide in the wardrobe where the sound is muffled.

All my love,

Regulus (his seal, the Sickle)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

Hermione had just enough time to make a cut throat and flappy wing motion with her hands to Sirius when she spotted an owl coming in from afar.

Sirius bolted from the Great Hall, the owl chasing him to deliver his envelope. Curious glances and a few of pity once they saw what the owl was carrying went across the Great Hall.

Severus stared off to where Sirius had disappeared. "Are howlers that bad? I've heard about them, but thankfully, my family doesn't care enough to send letters of disappointment."

Hermione shook her head. "There are howlers… and then there are howlers from my mother," she said after a bit. "Hers don't stop screaming even after they burst into flames."

Severus' eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard. "I think I'll take my family's apathy."

Hermione's expression changed to sorrow. She touched Severus on the arm lightly. "Like Professor McGonagall said. We're you're family now, Severus, and the last thing I am going to be is apathetic to you."

Severus' black eyes were unsure, but he nodded to her.

"And if you want," Hermione said with mischief. "I can send you a howler to make you feel like a part of my family."

Severus' ears turned red.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**A/N:** And now I'm off to complete a test and write a slew of diagnostic statements. Why? Because homework hates me so much. Wish me luck, folks!


	6. Transfiguration

**Chapter 6: Transfiguration**

Mouse. Snuffbox. Match to needle. Transfiguration alphabet.

Hermione scrawled the entire alphabet backwards and forwards on the notebook in front of her and then wrote out the entire transformation formula in it. "The intended transformation is directly influenced by body weight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and one element of the unknown."

Hermione glared at the formula. A transformation done in anger, provided you could keep your concentration, had the potential of being a very strong spell. Hermione recited the formula in her head. It was the same every year she had to teach Minerva's first years, and every year, someone would botch it up in a way that somehow created mouse-tailed snuffboxes, match headed animals, or some combination of bizarre.

Hermione tapped her wand against the table, transfiguring the mouse in front of her into a tortoise and then the tortoise into a teapot. All of this was done as she doodled the transfiguration pyramid in detail. She'd drawn the same diagram on many a chalkboard before class. Then, as if to calm herself, she turned the teapot into a rabbit and began to stroke the animal with her hand as she continued to doodle on her notebook.

All of this was done while the class was struggling to turn a matchstick into a needle. Hermione huffed, closed her notebook, and cleared off her desk. She turned all of the needles on her desk into matchsticks and built a matchstick bridge that looked like the entrance to Hogwarts. She sighed and waved her wand, turning them all back into needles, which fell into a pile on her desktop.

Eyes were upon her, and she felt them piercing into her. She cast Severus a side-long glance. Sagacity turned his head to the side to peer at the black-haired wizard as well, hooting loud enough to startle half the class.

He furrowed his brows, asking an assortment of silent questions. She cast him an arched eyebrow directly out of the future Severus Snape Handbook of Inquistive Eyebrow Arches. Hermione realised in that odd moment of perpetuity that she had learned such mannerisms from unintentionally assimilating her Potion's Professor's expressions directly from his portrait. She, in turn, was using them on the younger Severus Snape, who would then grow up to be the man in the portrait who corrupted Minerva's apprentice with his countless acerbic and dry expressions.

Hermione scooted her chair a little closer to him. "Do you trust me, Severus?"

He looked at her with a panicked expression. Trust was obviously a trigger word for the boy.

Hermione smiled sadly. "Will you trust me, at least, for this?" she rephrased.

Severus nodded slowly, apparently appreciative that she rephrased the question.

Hermione straightened her shoulders as Professor Granger took over. "Shoulder back like this, spine straight," she said, tapping his back in a few places. "Keep your eyes forward, your wrist loose. The movement of your wand should flow easily." Hermione traced a flaming magical symbol of the wand movement in front of him. It hung in the air so he could trace it with his wand. "Keep your elbow flexible, but not as much as your wrist. Now, think of the incantation in your mind as you shape the matchstick in your mind. Now, imagine the needle and what makes it a needle. Is it a sewing needle? A carpet needle? Think, perhaps, of a bookbinder's needle, but whatever you choose, hold it in your mind and then do the motion and say the incantation."

Severus said the incantation and did the wand motion. Hermione felt the release of his magic through his wand before it slammed into the matchstick on his desk.

Pop!

A curved bookbinder needle dropped onto the desk.

Severus looked wide-eyed at the needle, starting at it as if it would leap up and turn into a dog. He looked at her with an actual smile.

Hermione grinned at him. "Great work, Severus," she encouraged.

"Miss Black," McGonagall's voice said from behind her, causing Hermione to wince. She knew that tone. It was the "what do you think you're doing?" tone, which was slightly different from the "the grading better be done" tone and the "I will not have you transfiguring my chalkboards into pachyderms in my classroom, Professor Granger" tone.

"Yes, Ma…" Hermione started to say, biting her lip as the title Master almost blurted out for all to hear. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?" she tried again.

Minerva stared at the pile of shiny needles on Hermione's desk. "That will be five points to Slytherin for your multiple needles, Miss Black. And five points to you, Mr. Snape, for your creative transfiguration of a curved needle."

Hermione made a small fist pump to Severus, and the rest of the Slytherin on their side of the room winked and pumped their fists at her.

"Miss Black," McGonagall said softly.

"Yes, Ma'am?"she said, barely saving herself from calling the elder witch her Master yet again.

"Please stay after class, if you would please," Minerva said. "I have something to discuss with you."

Hermione cringed but nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

Minerva glided away, overseeing the other students in the classroom.

Hermione shrunk down in her chair with a gulp as Severus worked on transfiguring the rest of his matches into needles.

Lily was tugging on Severus' sleeve a short time later, begging him to help her figure out where she was going wrong. Hermione smirked as Severus awkwardly attempted to teach Lily what Hermione had just taught him.

There was a small tug on sleeve from the opposite side and she turned to face them.

Sirius gave her pleading look, pointing down to his… very strangely shaped pieces of shrapnel. At least they were metal? That was a start at least.

Hermione rolled her eyes and scooted her chair over, smacking her brother on the back to straighten his posture. And so it began again.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Minerva McGonagall had been teaching for a good fifteen years, and never once, even in Albus' classes, had she seen someone not only transfigure multiple objects without hesitation on the first day but also teach a fellow student.

The transformation in Miss Black was as obvious as the change of the matchstick into the needle. The Slytherin girl had straightened her posture, tapped her fellow on the back to correct his posture, traced the wand movement into the air so he could trace it, and guided him through the visualisation and incantation in a way that screamed a kind of familiarity and comfort with magic seventh years facing their N.E.W.T.s might have difficulty with. It wasn't that the magic as impossible or extraordinary that was amazing. What was amazing was the fact a first year was doing it.

The child's desk was stacked in a virtual haystack of needles, and Minerva had not missed the cascade of random spells that had come before it. Tortoises to teapots, mice into snuffboxes, and teapot to rabbit were all spells that were not expected of a first year on their first day.

This… Hermione Black was now teaching one of her own lion cubs, clearly not caring that they were in a rival House. She tapped their back, corrected their posture, gave them a movement to trace, and stared at them with a familiar method Minerva knew well. It was her own teaching method staring back at her, reflected in an eleven year old witch.

Minerva found herself in a very odd predicament. She wanted to, at that very moment, snap the girl up as her formal apprentice, just like they did in the old days. It didn't matter that she was Slytherin. She knew talent when she saw it. What was even more disturbing, was that she was willing to do this without Albus even being told. She didn't want to chance that the Headmaster would find some reason to deny it, and she knew exactly why he would: she was not Gryffindor, and Albus, despite all the good things he had done in his life, was guilty of a kind of blind favouritism when it came to his old House.

But this young witch, Hermione Black, tugged on something in Minerva that was almost painful. She watched the huge eagle owl cuddling up to his Mistress as she fussed over her book and while she was teaching her fellow students. The girl had beginnings of a true familiar. All the signs pointed to someone with the kind of self control required to "survive" an apprenticeship while keeping up with other schoolwork.

But would she want to? That was the question that needed answering and answers she would have soon, so help her, even if she had to paint the halls of Hogwarts plaid.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

"Have a seat, Miss Black," Minerva said. She pulled out her trusty tea service and poured tea for them both. She opened a jar with a collection of biscuits, gesturing for her to partake of them.

"Have I done something to displease you, Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked nervously.

"No, child," Minerva said, looking at her strangely. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I…" Hermione stared into her teacup. "Because I'm Slytherin."

McGonagall let out her breath slowly. "Miss Black," she said after a moment. "Being Slytherin does not immediately make you displeasing to me, despite what rumours may have been flying off the broomstick in conversation. And while we all have a soft spot, perhaps, for those of our House affiliation, it is what we do with ourselves that make our reputation. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, sipping her tea. "Yes, ma'am."

"You seem to be very bright and talented, witch, my dear," Minerva said. "Ahead of your age in regards to skill. I would hate to see it wasted on things that seem terribly remedial. I have not taught Transfiguration for over a decade to miss the signs of one who is up for more of a challenge than most."

Hermione dared to look up, and saw that McGonagall was looking at her intently, sternly, but not unkindly. It was the face she missed painfully when her memories of her past surged up and demanded to be remembered. She had been bound by magic and emotion to the elderly witch in her own time. It had been more than just friendship. A part of their souls had been intertwined in a magic older than what could be learnt from books: Minerva as her Master and she as her Apprentice. She could not help but miss it, even now, as Hermione Black. Minerva had been a Wizarding mother to her when she had sorely needed it, and Hermione had been the daughter the Scottish witch had never had by birth. It had healed them both.

"Hermione," Minerva's voice had said. "Ron may wake up some day and realised what he let slip through his fingers, but that does not mean you have to wait for him. Live your life. Love the things you love. And sometimes, when you least expect it, a door opens you never thought to see."

Hermione snapped her head up as Minerva's words to her after a long crying session in the Headmistress' office had Hermione in tears and Minerva ready to march straight to the Burrow and give a certain Weasley a piece of her mind and her wand. Even Severus Snape's portrait snarled something about "if he had a body, there would a few choice hexes he'd have been happy to teach Ronald Weasley in practicum." To Snape's portrait's credit, however, he had taught Hermione the hexes to be used "whenever the mood struck." Hermione had been flattered, oddly enough, that the brooding old Potion Master had a sort of protective teaching demeanour towards her after his physical death.

"What do you wish of me, Ma…," Hermione bit her lip to stifle the automatic use of Master. "Ma'am?"

"I wish to offer you a chance to train under me during your career here at Hogwarts, Miss Black," Minerva said softly. "You would be an Apprentice of Transfiguration. It would be my duty to teach you the subtleties of Transfiguration that most students do not have the heart or dedication to learn. It would be yours to learn, and by the time you reach the end of your seventh year, you will have gained your Mastery years before those taken only after graduation. It would mean a lot of extra work, off hours, and after your normal coursework is done in your other classes. I think, however, you would be well suited for the task, if your skill in my own class is any indicator."

Hermione's heart practically leapt out of her chest. "Do I have time to think upon it, Professor?"

Minerva's eyes softened. "Of course, child. "Take a few weeks to get acclimatised to the school and get a feel as to what you are willing to take on. Let me know in a month's time as to what you wish to do, whether it be to accept or not."

Hermione nodded silently, downing the last of her tea in a gulp.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, her stomach threatening to run right up her oesophagus and slap her upside the face with nerves. "I will let you know."

McGonagall gave a small smile. "I look forward to your answer, Miss Black," she replied softly.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hermione," whined Lily, bouncing up and down on her heels. "Come onnnnn." Lily grabbed the black-haired witch by the wrist and tugged on her.

"Guaah," Hermione managed to get out as the red-head dragged Hermione in one arm and Severus in the other.

"I found a perfect place to have a picnic lunch!" Lily announced.

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances as they were being dragged behind the hyper Gryffindor witch.

Hermione, feeling like she was watching a younger version of herself, sputtered until Lily finally released her. There was a glorious old oak on the edge of shore overlooking Black Lake, and it was positioned just right to get a healthy bed of moss under its canopy. Lily was right. It was a perfect place to have a picnic.

"I grabbed a bunch of food from the Great Hall and stuffed it into the picnic basket," Lily said with a grin, flopping down in the comfy moss as she set down her picnic basket.

"Aren't you the budding miscreant?" Severus quipped, sitting down.

Lily pfted, shoving Severus on the shoulder. "Eat your sandwich, Severus," she admonished. She looted a red and green striped apple from the basket and bit into it, causing a cascade of juice to run down her chin as she ate it.

"We have potions next," Severus said as he poked through the picnic basket and seemed to find something he could settle on. He lifted a sandwich out of the basket and handed it to Hermione before diving into the wicker looking for another. "What do you have, Lily?"

"Potions too!" Lily said. "I wonder if that means we are in the same class or if there are more than one potions class."

"I think that means we are having class together," Hermione said, staring out over the lake. The squid had his tentacles extended up out of the water, making it look like he was waving to something off shore.

"Ooo, that sounds exciting," Lily confessed. "I read through the entire book. It looks like get to learn about Forgetfullness potions and poison antidotes as well as something called the Awakening potion."

Severus and Hermione shot Lily the same look at the same time.

"What?" Lily whined. "It sounds exciting!"

"Just boggling that you read through the entire book before class, Lily," Severus grunted. "Not that I haven't, but you normally fixate on more whimsical reading material."

"Psh," Lily huffed. "I'll have you know, it was perfectly fascinating, It helped me wind down to sleep."

"I fear I don't remember much about last night. My head hit the pillow, and sleep swallowed me up," Hermione confessed.

"That doesn't surprise me," Lily sniffed. "After how well you took up Transfiguration, you probably have little concern about Potions."

Hermione smirked, smacking her feet into Lily's until they had a foot war, playfully pushing back and forth at each other's feet.

"What did Professor McGonagall want with you, anyway?" Severus asked. "Did she not like you tutoring people in her class?"

"Far from it," Hermione said, furrowing her brows. "She…" the trailed off into the distance awkwardly. "She wants to take me on as her Apprentice."

"Apprentice!" Lily squeaked. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"How am I to know what is it is you think, Lily Evans?" Hermione huffed. "I am not a tenant in your brain."

Lily giggled. "You sound like Severus," she said in between giggles. "But, really, what would that mean?"

"Extra work outside of my other classes, I think," Hermione said. "Learning the intricacies of transfiguration."

"I think that sounds wonderful," Lily said, polishing off the apple in her hand. "You obviously have a knack for it. What about you, Sev? Are you excited about Potions class?"

Severus shrugged, playing with the wrinkles in his robes. "It sounds interesting enough, but I'm more excited about learning Defence Against the Dark Arts. We'll be learning about things like gnomes and doxies, imps and bowtruckles, and how to knockback an adversary, reveal objects hidden by the Dark arts with Verdimillious, and creating light without electricity."

"Well then, we balance out then. If any of us have problems, we can be our own specialised study group," Lily said with a grin, digging through the basket for a sandwich for herself.

"How are things," Severus asked, "in…Gryffindor?"

"Nice enough, I suppose," Lily answered. "Most of the people seem amiable enough. I'm sharing a room with Alice, Emmeline, and Marlene, and they were quite friendly to me. They've kept me protected from those boys that were together when we got off the boats."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "They haven't hurt you, have they?" she asked with a glint in her eyes.

"No!" Lily said immediately, shaking her head. "They're just… boys."

Severus' head snapped up and he looked at her with a funny look.

Lily gave him an apologetic look in return. "You know what I mean… they don't even think before they say anything. The one, his name is James, is just a real nosey parker, if you catch my meaning. His other friend, Remus, seems nice though. Shy. Your brother is a real joker, and that other guy… Peter, just follows them around like a lost puppy. Sometimes he gives you this look though, maybe it's just me… it's creepy."

Hermione shook her head. She understood it all too well. Something in the boy had triggered a visceral response in her that meeting Lucius and Narcissa had not done. "I understand," she said after a moment.

"Are you going to accept, Professor McGonagall's offer?" Severus asked, munching on a piece of cucumber with half-interest.

Hermione turned her head and looked off into the distance.

"You should," Severus said into the silence. "I'm hardly an expert on teaching, but you have the knack for it. Why not learn from one of the best? I've heard she's an animagus. That's like the ultimate accomplishment for the field, and she did it because she could, not because had a driving need to."

Hermione looked at Severus with new eyes. Her once and future Potion Master seemed sincere.

"He's right, you know," Lily said. "You practically tutored the entire class this morning. Why not do that and get credit for it?"

"By the time you graduate, you'll be more than ready to teach if that is what you want to do, Hermione," Severus agreed. "Or… take the world by storm."

Hermione lifted her head. "What would I do with the world, Severus?"

Severus' black eyes seemed to flicker with amusement. "Make it your oyster."

Hermione looked hauntingly towards black lake. The part of her who remembered a certain messy black-haired wizard and a red-headed wizard with a propensity to stuff his face while talking filled her mind. Two people, who despite their differences, had stuck together until the end, even though the end Hermione had been parted from her friends in probably the most violent betrayal possible.

"What is it, Hermione?" Lily nudged her friend.

"Will you be with me to the end?" Hermione whispered. It was a naive question, more fitting of the eleven year old than someone who know that friend dynamics changed like the tide. Sometimes there were storms. Sometimes a friendship never survived it.

Lily, however, who seemed far more loyal and confident with a list of traits that Hermione could not help but attribute to the Gryffindor House, pulled Hermione into an unconditional hug. "Of course we will," she promised.

Hermione looked into the face of Harry Potter's young mother. The young witch looked utterly sincere. The future, at that point, was certain. She would stand by her new friend until the end, whatever that might entail. Could she trust the world of an eleven year old witch? A witch who would eventually repudiate her childhood friend due to one slanderous word said in anger?

Perhaps, her remembering her "past" was a gift. Her being injected into the past had irrevocably changed the future she knew already. Would her presence here in the past have the potential to change things for the better? Or would the future be doomed to repeat itself regardless of what she tried or didn't try to do?

Hermione's inner dialogue was jarred by the soft touch of Severus' hand upon her arm. His black eyes met her grey ones with an echo of his elder self. There was determination there, and something utterly vulnerable.

"To the end," Severus said softly.

Hermione drew her friends into a hug, tears spilling from her eyes as her emotions caught up with her. It didn't matter, truly, what the future held. At this very moment, she had friends, and she promised herself she would be there for them to face their own yet unwritten future.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

It was a few days later when Hermione finally had some time to herself where she felt she could sneak out and spread her wings a little. She waited until Severus and Lily sneaked off to the library to study together and keep each other occupied.

The dungeon, conveniently located under Black Lake, was not exactly Gryffindor Tower. There were no windows to allow her to escape directly, and a part of her missed that about her new place of residence.

Narcissa had come by with few of her friends with a tasty rumour on why Hermione's dormitory room was empty save for her. Rumour had it, and Hermione wasn't sure if it was only that, the students that were supposed to come back that year and share it with her had "strangely disappeared." Ever since then, no one wanted to share the room with Hermione, perhaps afraid that the room itself marked one for strange disappearances.

Hermione had shaken her head, but smirked to herself. She didn't mind having the room to herself for the time being. Next year, perhaps, a new group of Slytherin would arrive and fill out the beds that were, at this moment, empty.

Sagacity hooted from the nearby tree and reminded her why she was out sneaking at night when normal folks were doing… well less than shady things than she was.

"Ready for a little fly and a mission?" she asked the owl.

He hooted at her, ruffling his wings.

"This is going to be really embarrassing if I shift into a blue footed booby," Hermione said. She looked skyward. "Or a garter snake… at least the bobby could fly."

Hermione closed her eyes, calling to her the peace of mind that in turn called her form to her. With a draw of power both within herself and the energy around her, she stepped off into the Abyss and shifted.

Flames burst from the core of her body as a the shift overcame her. She felt a burble of music burst from her throat in a chain of whistles and clicks that radiated out from her.

She was fire. She was flames incarnate. She was both fury and joy. She spread her wings and took to the air with a piercing cry of reunion with her inner phoenix.

Sagacity launched into the hair and followed her, his large wings keeping beat with hers as the flames of her emotion wicked off her feathers. She banked on the currents of wind that spun around Hogwarts with Sagacity hooting his happiness to be flying in the air with his bondmate.

She felt the tendrils of his presence swirling around her. Thread after thread of energy wove them even tighter together. She felt the owl's joyous surge of pleasure at being able to share the skies with his person.

She zoomed off towards the distance mountains, a goal in her mind for what she wanted to do. By the time she landed in the snow at the peak of mountain, her plan had solidified. She flipped back into her human form, pulling a small basket out of her robes and expanding it. She leaned over into the snow covered bush and shook the branches with her hand, exposing the glowing alpine winterberries that were the pride and joy of berry lovers in the Wizarding world.

The berries were the the size of large gooseberries, but had a flavour that shifted from cherry to peach, blackberry to blueberry, and then currants to mayapple. They were rare to begin with, but the biggest reason was that they could not be cultivated. They had to be found, harvested in the wild in their element, and the bushes did what chameleons did in the animal world: hide. Bright white foliage hidden in fields of bright white snow made for fun times, but Hermione had an advantage, she was a phoenix very effective snow removing wings.

Hermione plucked the berries carefully, placing them in the basket with care, flying off to the next peak and repeating the process until she had a full basket. She shrank it down, stashing it into her robes, and took to the air,

She returned back to the home range of the Dark Forest with lazy wing beats. Sagacity hooted as he recognised the familiar territory of Hogwarts, and he keep time with her, his wing tips brushing against hers. With a whoosh of wing flaps, she landed in the middle of the woods and lit a fire in a very specific manner.

One of things that Minerva had taught her had been how to summon the centaur of the Dark Forest for parlay. The treaty between Hogwarts and the centaur was unofficial, since the Ministry treated the centaur as beasts rather than sentient creatures. It was a mistake that Minerva did not tolerate, and through working with Firenze after the war, they had ironed out a mutually beneficial agreement between Hogwarts and the centaur that did not insult the herd the way the Ministry had so many times before. One thing the centaur had taught them, was the peace fire. It was a tradition that had sprung from the early herds when one herd wished to discuss with a neighbouring herd without encroaching on territory. The peace fire was the only sure exception in the territory of any centaur herd, and Hermione and Minerva had learned the intricate construction with precision detail.

Hermione placed the bark on the fire and surrounded the fire circle with dried berries from four different plants, each symbolising the cardinal directions. Sagacity perched upon her shoulder, leaning into her with his warmth to reassure her that she was not alone. Hermione sat cross-legged by the fire, placing her hands to her knees in meditation.

It might have been minutes or hours, but hoof beats broke her from her silent meditation as the fire had turned mostly to embers.

"We arrive, phoenix foal of Hogwarts," a deep voice said in the gloom of the forest. "We have watched you land within our territory and witnessed your creation of the Peace Circle. I am Meliton, leader of the herd of the Dark Forest. Tell me yours that we might speak."

Hermione stood and bowed her head. The centaur missed little in their territory. It did not surprise her that they witnessed her transformation, but if all went well, her secret would be safe. "I am Hermione, Meliton of the Dark Forest. I come with peace in my heart that we may speak."

Meliton came by the fire. Two of his trusted stood by his side, flanking him. "This is Solon and Theron."

Hermione bowed her head to each. "Peace to you, Solon and Theron."

The pair nodded to her, curiosity in their gazes.

"What brings you to our forest, Hermione of Hogwarts?" Meliton asked. "As I recall, your elders would have you believe the forest is full of dangers you are unprepared for."

Hermione smirked. "I fear my elders do not know I am here, Meliton. I come for my own ends and my own beginnings."

Meliton gave a small nod, jerking his head towards Solon and Theron, who relaxed and took up places beside the fire in a more casual manner.

"What would you ask of us, Hermione of Hogwarts? I will admit to curiosity of a foal that speaks like a centaur and knows our ways well enough to light the fire of peace."

"I come asking for permission of passage through your forest, Meliton, that I may hunt within your territory that my stomach may not go empty. I pledge that if there anything I might hunt that you or your people may find of use and I am sated, I will bring it to you that it may not go to waste. If there is danger that threatens, I will share it, that you may not go in ignorance. I bring to you a gift, as evidence of my prowess, that I will not hunt without purpose or wound my prey and leave it injured."

"What you ask is to be welcomed as one of our own, Hermione of Hogwarts," Meliton said. "What do you bring to us that would strengthen our herd?"

Hermione gestured to the basket by the fire.

Meliton approached the fire and took the basket in his hands, pulling the cloth off the top of it to peer within. "Winterberries?" the centaur said softly.

Hermione nodded. "I bring to you my skill as a hunter, that joined we may never go hungry. I bring to you my magic, that it may protect those who are my allies. I bring to you my oath, that I will protect the herd as my own."

"The snow is still upon them," he said after a bit. "So I know you did not buy them in the human settlement…"

The centaur gazed into the basket of winterberries and seemed to ponder something deeply. With a ritualistic gesture he took a berry from the basket and held it out to her.

Hermione, knowing what he desired, took a bite from it, leaving him the other half. She chewed and swallowed, juice dripping off her chin.

Meliton took the rest and mouthed the rest, eating it. "Be welcome in our forest, Hermione of Hogwarts. Hunt freely to ease your hunger and remember us when your stomach is full." He pulled a medallion off from his neck. "Will you take the mark of our herd, that we might recognise you in peace and in war?"

"This I do freely," Hermione said formally. "May the time we share be of peace, but if war rises in the stars, may we stand as allies in the face of danger." Hermione privately thanked Firenze for the days he spend drilling the formal words into her brain.

She tilted her head to the side, and Meliton dangled the medallion into the embers. He pressed the medallion behind her ear, and a searing pain came over her as it burned the mark into her scalp.

Tears came to her eyes with the pain, but Meliton pulled a plant out from one of his pouches, chewed it for a moment, then pressed it to the burn. Almost immediately, the pain was gone, and a cool feeling chased the pain away.

"The stars and planets witness your mark, Hermione of Hogwarts, and they witness your rebirth," Meliton said with a rumble. "Be welcome amongst our herd and our territory, hunter phoenix and foal of Hogwarts. Come, put your hand upon my back and I will guide you to meet the herd."

Thanking Firenze profusely again in her head for teaching her the intricacies of the herd formalities and formal words, Hermione did as she was told and placed her hand upon the honey-coloured centaur's back and followed them deeper into the forest.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

By the time Hermione flew back towards Hogwarts, her head was full of new faces she did not recognise from her own time. Even the centaur whose names she did recognise, were now young and inexperienced. Magorian was but a young centaur that counted his moons the same as she. Firenze, too, was a young colt who gazed up at the stars with the wonderment of youth and the innocence of one whose herd had never turned upon him for betraying his herd to humans.

What was different for her? The part of her that was Hermione Ankaa Black asked the question. She knew the formal words, she answered herself. Professor Hermione Granger bore the mark of the Dark Forest herd behind her ear, now just as Hermione Ankaa Black did. The elder Magorian had marked Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall after the war, bringing a long-lasting pace between the centaur and Hogwarts. It also helped that she was an animagus. That put her in a place that allowed respect more so than a "normal human." It was the centaur's version of racial bias, but at least in the centaur's case, she could understand where the hard feelings had come from. The Ministry had done nothing to encourage good relations amongst humans and centaurs.

Hermione disillusioned herself as she hit the corridors of Hogwarts, hurrying along the corridors and slipping down into the dungeons without incident. Argus Filch was yet to be employed at Hogwarts, and it was a relief that he and his familiar were not patrolling the hallways looking for people like her.

As she made herself appear once more and muttered the password to the blank wall and she slipped into the abandoned common room and around the corridor to the female dorms. Sagacity flew to his perch by her bed with a soft hoot, grateful to be home.

She eyed the scroll on her bedside desk and unrolled it, staring at the flowing script of Minerva McGonagall. Her acceptance or denial of Minerva's offer of Apprenticeship lay waiting for her signature on the appropriate line of yea or nay. Would she tie herself to the Scottish witch once more? Was there ever any doubt what her answer would be?

Hermione picked the quill up from her desk and dipped it on the ink well, signing the scroll. She rolled it up and lit one of the wax sticks on her desk, dripping the sealing wax over the scroll. She took off her signet ring and pressed it into the cooling wax before putting the ring back on her finger.

She held the scroll out for Sagacity, and he hooted, flinging himself off the perch to grasp the scroll in his talons and carry it off.

By the time she had changed and readied herself for bed, the owl had returned, and he buttered her up for an owl nut or three.

Hermione chuckled, stroking the eagle owl on his back and burrowing under the covers for bed. She fell asleep to the soft hoots of Sagacity in the dark of the room, a smile on her face.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

**A/N:** So sleepy… and it's only 9pm. What's wrong with me?! AHHH! Next update is going to be on the Looks story, since the stories are sharing joint custody of my brain. More like hijacking my brain…

I will admit, when I was writing the part where Severus and Lily promise to be there for Hermione till the end, I was a little weepy emotionally. Sometimes… scenes just grab you by the heart and shake you, and that was one for me!

Have a glorious rest of the weekend, folks!


	7. Letter from Father

"_If men could only know each other, they would neither idolise or hate." - Elbert Hubbard_

**Chapter 7: Letter from Father**

The post-owl dropped an envelope in Hermione's lunch-time fruit salad and wobbled off, and Hermione's eyebrows went up into her hair. She wondered if it was some relation to Errol, bless the old or possibly currently young dysfunctional owl.

She blotted the fruit juice off the envelope and opened the letter with curiosity.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

My Dearest Daughter,

Ah, my young chick, it pleases me greatly that you accepted the Apprenticeship with Minerva McGonagall. Your last letter expressed your conflict at being in a different House and wondering if that would affect it, and I am glad you took my advice to heart.

There is no shame at all Apprenticing to Minerva. She, of all the Gryffindor, has the mark of integrity upon her, and there is no one worth their salt in Slytherin that would dare think otherwise. The witch once caused a hat-stall of the greatest order between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and I will be the first to say that either House would have found her a grand edition. She is as noble as she is wise, and you should not ever treat her differently because that old hat tossed a coin and shoved her into Gryffindor's House! Her skill at Transfiguration is top notch, and you will learn well from her, my chick. Of this, I have no doubt at all.

I have placed galleons in your account at Gringotts to cover your Apprenticeship robes, as it is tradition for family to support their child in a bid for an Apprenticeship. Seeing as there was no bidding and even more surprising, no competition, it is only fair that we show solidarity to your new Master by covering your first robes. I have, as is expected, paid the necessary registry fees as befits the honour of our House, and I shall leave to your Master, as is her sovereign right, the rest of the mountain of paperwork that shall undoubtedly come of it. I do not envy the witch that in the slightest, but do not tell your Master that!

Do you find it odd, my chick, that while there is a Headmaster and and a Headmistress that when you are an Apprentice, it is always a Master, regardless of gender? I suppose it is one title that never differentiated between male and female. Who can say for sure? Surely not I. I am not so curious as to dig so closely into the history of Masters and Apprentices. Now, I do not wish to hear from your brother that you spent the next month digging through the library intent on discovering the discrepancies in the English language! I am pointing my finger at you, my daughter. I am also shaking it fiercely.

Your mother sends her love, my chick, and she is most approving that you are showing initiative in taking the school by storm. Some of us had no doubt in you, but do not tell your mother I said so. I still haven't finished repairing all the China from her explosion over your twin's placement in Gryffindor.

I have to admit that Sirius' personality has always been more bold and daring to a fault. I am not sure who he got it from. I would blame your mother's side of the family, but I'm sure she would start yelling again, and I'm enjoying a spot of peace and quiet at the moment in the library.

Did Regulus tell you that one of his classmates made the mistake of making fun of his scarf you sent him? Your wrathful brother jelly-leg hexed the impertinent boy without a wand in his rage and raw magic. I swear to you that he will be a menace once he gets a wand and proper training. The Ministry had to come and do some select Obliviating to cover up the magic use. I believe they made up some sort of excuse along the lines of "poor boy had hypoglycemia and just couldn't hold himself up due to hunger." I'm not even sure what that means, to be honest, as Muggle terms always seem so strange to me, but Regulus isn't being picked on, so I am satisfied. My friend Marcus at the Ministry of Magic was laughing all the way to the Improper Use of Magic Office. He said the use was quite "proper" if you asked him. No person, wizard, witch, or Muggle should mess with a man's accoutrement!

The point of that entire story was to remind you to keep a good eye on your little brother once he starts Hogwarts. The last thing we need is him getting in trouble getting into duels with students over how he dresses! Not that he wouldn't win the duel, but I fear he would not be setting the example your mother wishes him to exude, and we both know how well that will go.

Congratulations, again, for accepting your new Apprenticeship, my young chick. You do us proud, my daughter.

Love always, your father,

Orion Black (his seal, the Belt of Orion)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione smiled at the letter from her father. He never failed to make her feel better, and it seemed even his letters always sent the kind of understanding that Walburga had trouble expressing to her daughter.

"Long letter," Severus said, eyeing the long cascade of parchment in Hermione's hands.

Hermione rolled it up and stashed it in her robes with a chuckle. "My father sent his regards."

"If my father sent me two words on a slip of paper, I think I would check for an eclipse," Severus said grimly.

"He doesn't sound like a very nice person, Severus," Hermione noted.

Severus shook his head. "He is not. He spends most of his time in a bottle as often as he can."

Hermione frowned. "I am sorry, Severus. Truly."

Severus shook his head. "Not your fault my father is a git. No need to be sorry."

"As awful as my mother can be," Hermione said. "She does care for me. I just have to read between the lines and carry a very large magnifying lens sometimes."

Severus chuckled. "Is her picture under the entry for "tough love" in the dictionary?

"Right next to 'militant love,' I think," Hermione said with a smirk. "Practically gladiatorial."

Severus snorted. "Did you finish your essay on dragon blood for Slughorn?"

"Ugh, yes," Hermione replied. "I would never have thought of using blood as an oven cleaner or spot remover, to be honest. It's blood, for Merlin's sake. Everyone knows blood normally stains… well everything."

"I'm trying to figure out how Dumbledore figured out that dragon blood cured verrucas," Severus grunted. "What did he do? Have a vial of it, break it, and then accidentally step on it and go 'oh my foot wart is gone?'"

Hermione snorted. "You would focus on the verruca."

Severus huffed.

Hermione grinned back at him until the corners of his lips curved upward, unable to restrain his own amusement.

"We should get to class. Lily has that look about her," Severus said, gesturing with his chin.

Hermione turned around and stared at Lily who was giving her bug eyes and bouncing impatiently at her seat. "Subtle… isn't she?"

"Very," Severus said with a smirk.

The two of them got up for their next class and exited the Great Hall. They had barely managed to get past the doors when Lily latched onto them both from behind, carrying a large pile of books.

"How many books to do you need for potions class, Lily?" Hermione clucked.

Lily pshed. "I left the rest on my desk."

Severus arched a brow at Lily.

"Stop it," Lily whined. "You know Slughorn always asks the extra credit questions. I want to be prepared!"

Hermione smirked. "There is prepared and there is overkill, Lily."

Lily glared at her, but there was no heat to it.

As they went around the corner, someone slammed into the lot of them, sending their books flying in multiple directions, and just as they were leaning down to pick them up, someone else slammed into them, knocking them off their feet.

Hermione exchanged embarrassment with rage as she stood up once more, gathering up Lily's pile of books and handed them to her after Severus helped her up. Lily had her own version of a death glare on her face, and Severus had a look that reminded Hermione so much of his older and more bitter self.

Hermione's hand clenched as she stared at James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, both of which were giving her arrogant looks of "well, what are you going to do about it."

Hermione's hair began to rise with the intensity of her scorn, and her eyes flickered with fire, the silvery grey colour of her irises bled into the shifting inferno of true fire. Orange, white, and blue shifted through her eyes.

Suddenly a warm arm went around her waist.

"Hey sis," Sirius said, handing her the books she had dropped and had yet picked up. "These your books?"

"There are, but the one on top is Severus'," Hermione said, her voice tightly reined as her eyes glared at where James and Peter were skulking back at them.

Sirius took the top book off the stack and handed it to Severus. "Severus, is it?" her brother seemed to be scanning Severus with his eyes like a scanner from the Muggle grocery store. He watched Severus closely as the boy took his book from his hand.

"Thanks," Severus said softly.

Sirius stared from Severus, his twin, and Lily. There was a strange dynamic shifting under the surface. He looked at his twin with a slight furrowing of his black brows. "You're angry. Why?"

Hermione flicked her eyes to where James and Peter had turned and left, snickering to themselves.

Sirius followed her eyes. "I'll talk to them," he began.

Hermione shook her head. "Don't. If they can't treat me with respect on their own, they are not worth my breath."

Sirius touched her shoulder. "Sis… they have their good points."

"You let me know how that works for you," Hermione snapped bitterly.

Sirius engulfed his sister with his arms suddenly. Hermione stiffened at first, but relaxed. Her body remembered the comfort of her twin's embrace. He had always been there for her. Through countless temper tantrums, broken toys, and her mother's almost bipolar mood swings… Sirius had always been the rebel she couldn't be. He had always been a safe place to run to when she didn't give a flying fig about propriety and just wanted a hug in public.

"I'll talk to them," he said softly into her hair.

Hermione nodded silently.

Sirius pinched her chin with his fingers and smiled. He looked to Lily and Severus with a sad smile. "Take care of her," he said firmly.

Lily gave a look that conveyed "of course I will, you dolt" while Severus settled for a grass wilting "I'll do what I want, and I'm not going to tell you what that is" expression.

Sirius brushed his sister's hair back. "See you in class," he said, turning on his heels and hurrying down the corridor after his two friends.

Lily tugged on Hermione's sleeve. "Let's go."

Hermione nodded and allowed herself to be dragged along to class between Lily and Severus.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Professor Slughorn stalked around his classroom, tutting, clucking, and practically channelling his inner mother hen as he brooded over his potion students.

The potion of the day was the Forgetfulness Potion, and Hermione prayed silently that no one in the class had the aptitude of a certain Neville Longbottom when it came to potions. The last thing she wanted was half a classroom of amnesiac students who couldn't remember who they were.

After Hermione had dropped in required two drops water from the River Lethe, Severus had added in two sprigs of fresh Valerian. Hermione wondered if Hagrid still had his garden of Valerian out on the grounds near his hut. Hermione stirred the cauldron careful clockwise three times, making sure not to over stir, and Severus waved his wand over it. Now it was the waiting game. Hermione waved her wand, causing a timer to count down in the air.

Taking the time in between to prepare the rest of the ingredients, Severus and Hermione divided and conquered. He took to mixing up a batch of the standard ingredient mixture while Hermione picked through the jar of mistletoe sprigs, looking for four idea berries. Most of the berries were sadly old and shrivelled, and Hermione glared at them as though it would suddenly cause them to hydrate. They both threw the ingredients into the mortar.

Hermione started pulverising the ingredients with the pestle and then handed it Severus, who continue the act of mercilessly grinding the ingredients into a fine powder. They alternated back and forth until the powder was significantly fine, but there were still a bit of roughness about it thanks to the mistletoe berries.

Sagacity hooted softly from the perch she had been allowed to transfigure and set in the potions lab. Slughorn seemed to know the difference between the animals his students brought in because they could and actual familiars, and the familiars were allowed to stay, as long as they were well behaved. One of the Gryffindor witches had an black and white tuxedo cat with bright white boots for feet. He curled up on the side of the desk, tail flicking lightly as his mistress tried to follow the recipe.

Sagacity, the ultimate example of owlish manners, perched sleepily overlooking their work.

"Do you think this is 'medium-fine' powder enough?" Hermione whispered.

Severus peered at the mixture. "We might have gone overkill upon it," he admitted.

"Well here goes," Hermione said, taking two pinches of the mixture and flinging it into the cauldron.

Severus stirred five times, anti-clockwise, looking as though he were waiting for it blow up in his face.

Hermione waved her wand over the potion and the colour shifted from green to bright purple before settling on a dark blue.

"Think it's done?" Severus asked.

"Well it changed colour and didn't blow up in our faces," Hermione said with a half grin.

Sagacity hooted approval.

Slughorn, who seemed to appear out of no where, clapped his hands together. "Excellent work!" he exclaimed. "That is a fine example of the Forgetfulness Potion. Five points to Slytherin for the each of you for such an excellent quality potion.

Hermione and Severus nodded in approval, moving to decanter their potion and clean their desk off.

Piercing glares from the Gryffindor side of the room dug into Hermione and Severus' back.

Hermione turned her head to stare toward the Gryffindor side of the classroom, flames flickering across her grey eyes as she saw their heated glares.

Lily waved her wand over the cauldron she was sharing with Remus and the potion shifted colours much like Hermione's and Severus'. Hermione smiled at her in encouragement.

"Excellent work, Miss Evans and Mr. Lupin," Slughorn praised. "Two points to Gryffindor for the each of you for also completing your potion without complications. The rest of you must continue until your finish, but there will be no more extra points. Get to it, everyone."

Lily beamed, elbowing Remus. The shy wizard flushed and turned his eyes away, not comfortable with eyes upon him.

Lily and Remus getting points seemed to lessen the glaring coming from the Gryffindor side.

Sirius winked at Hermione as he jabbed his thumb at his lab partner and shook his head with a "it's hopeless" expression. The hourglass on his desk was still counting down before he could work on the second part of the potion.

Hermione finished bottling the potion and handed to Severus to go place on Slughorn's desk. She smiled at him. They had done well with their brewing and Hermione saw a bit of her elder Potion Master peaking out during their brewing session.

There was a snickering coming from behind her, and Hermione felt a tingle as the hairs on the back of neck rose.

"_Colloshoo_!" a voice behind her whispered, and a beam of light went zinging along the floor towards Snape.

"Severus stand perfectly still!" Hermione hissed, barely registering that the black-haired wizard did exactly as he was told, freezing in place as those her words had done it.

The curse hit his feet, gluing his shoes to the ground and coating them in sticky hardening gunk.

Hermione was half out of her chair and ready to hex the desk behind her when Slughorn was towering over her, blocking her view. "What is going on here?" he growled. There is no curse flinging in this classroom. This is a potions classroom, not a dueling platform! Who flung that spell?" he demanded. "Miss Black please see to your friend."

Hermione rushed over to Severus and took the potion he had a death grip on and placed it on Slughorn's desk. She gave Severus her arm so he could slip out of his ruined shoes one by one.

Severus looked down at his ruined shoes with a scowl. They had looked well worn and possibly well loved, an if his expression meant anything to Hermione, she knew he didn't have another pair to replace them with.

Slughorn was scowling around the classroom. "Well if none of you are going to confess as to who decided to fling that curse in my classroom, and I cannot simply confiscate your wands to find out, then I will have to put you all in detention. All except Mr. Snape, who was the obvious victim here, and Miss Evans and Mr. Lupin, whom I was speaking with when it happened. If you cannot stand by and take the consequences for what you have done, then you will learn that one action done in malice will hurt everyone. Now. Finish your potions. The lot of you will have detention with Professor Kettleburn tonight and every night for a week's time or until the culprit is exposed."

There was a hard silence after Slughorn announced the mass detention. It was perfectly acceptable as a Slytherin to look out for yourself, but at the same time you were also supposed to have a great amount of solidarity with your House. Doing something that would bring down the hammer on your entire class, was something that was frowned upon. The chances of a Slytherin having done the deed was about as likely as there being karaoke singing contests in the Slytherin Common Room each night after dinner.

That left the Gryffindor, but while Slughorn may have known full well on of those not of his House were the culprit, the fact was he couldn't prove it as he had been communicating with Lily and Remus over their potion at the time. The mass detention, unfortunately, was the only way to drill home the idea that such behaviour was not to be tolerated in his classroom.

Suddenly a dark blond student in the back stood up. "I saw you do it, Potter. You may be in my House, but I am not going to have to write my parents to explain why I've gotten a week's worth of detentions for something I didn't do!"

James pshed, "I didn't do anything."

"You're a liar," another Gryffindor accused. "I saw you do it, giggling with Pettigrew as that beam came out of your wand. You're just trying to get us all into trouble to save your own face. Well, I'm not going down for you!"

Shouts of agreement went through the classroom as Hermione and Severus took their seats.

Hermione exchanged glances with Severus, Lily, and Sirius. Sirius look resigned. Lily looked scornful, and Severus looked ready to set someone on fire.

Slughorn finally singled out Mr. James Potter, and asked, or rather demanded, him stay after class. The rest of them, once their potions were done, were excused.

And for once, both Gryffindor and Slytherin students hustled out together in solidarity.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"The boy is a toe rag, Severus," Lily fumed. "Don't let him get to you. Just because he can't find anything better to do than to pick on you doesn't mean you have to lower yourself to meet him."

Severus stared into the sunset. "Those were my favourite shoes. My mother gave them to me."

"She must be an amazing person," Hermione said thoughtfully, staring off into the darkening sky.

"She cared for me," Snape said softly. His voice was full of emotion. "There was a time when she wasn't afraid to show it before… before my father beat it out of her."

Hermione touched his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Lily touched his opposite shoulder, her face twisted in sympathy.

Severus' black eyes smoldered, but as Hermione and Lily leaned into him, something changed within him. He had friends. Not just one… and they weren't judging him. And while it had only been a month, he couldn't imagine his life without them, nor did he want to.

There hadn't been a time that Hermione had judged Lily for being a Muggleborn witch, and she was a pure-blooded as it came. In fact, if she looked down at someone at all, it was because of their deeds or lack thereof. It wasn't really that she was looking down at them as much as she looked through them. He imagined if he were to stand to have his heart weighed before he could pass into the Underworld, it would be her eyes that stared him down as it happened.

"I have something for you, Severus," Hermione said as she stared upward. She pulled a package out from her robes and tapped with her wand, enlarging it. "It's been a week since that idiot decided to glue your bloody shoes to the classroom floor, and I think it's about time we rectified you running around in your night slippers."

He and Lily looked at her with wonder, pondering how Hermione did magic with such casual ease. It was, strangely, becoming normal to expect it and sometimes it still turned their heads.

Severus tugged on the ties around the parcel and yanked it free of the bindings. He peeled back the wrapping of dark green paper and froze. Nestled in the parcel was probably the most amazing pair of tailored knee-high boots he had ever seen. His hand touched the leather and he gasped. "Is this… what I think it is?"

"What do you think it is?" Hermione said with a smirk.

"Dragonhide," Severus whispered. He stroked the boots with his fingers, attempting to absorb the magnitude of the gift.

"I…" Hermione started to say. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I guessed. I really hope you like them. I enchanted them you see… they'll resize for you… I hope you don't think me presumptuous… I didn't…"

"They're wonderful," Severus said, cutting her off. He looked at her with such a haunted expression. No one, short of his mother, had ever given him something before. Nothing like this. Nothing so… meaningful.

He took the slippers he was wearing off and slid the boots on. They wrapped around his legs and up his calves like a warm blanket, hugging him like an long lost friend. He looked up at Hermione, unsure what to say or what to do. What was appropriate? What wasn't?

As if sensing his conflict, Hermione smiled warmly and drew him into a hug. Severus stiffened at first, unsure and unpractised. Then, deciding that it was well and truly time to accept that someone honestly cared for him, he leaned into the hug, pulling Hermione close in a genuine leap of faith.

As he withdrew, Hermione was looking at him with her grey eyes, flickers of flames seemed to dance within them.

She startled herself, reaching into her robes and pulling a small box out and handed it to Lily. "This is for you, Lily."

Lily looked startled, and for a moment, Severus saw the twinge of jealousy in her eyes flicker and then be replaced by relief as she realised that Hermione had not forgotten her either. It was a petty thing to be jealous of, replacement footwear, but Lily seemed to realise that Hermione had done something significant, even though she wasn't quite sure what that significant thing was.

Lily unwrapped the box and gasped. "It's beautiful…" she boggled. "Did you… did you make it?"

Hermione nodded silently.

Lily frantically combed her hair with her hands and lifted the hair clip out of the box and put it in her hair. The clip was gold, but mounted upon it was a flame lily, its blazon red and yellow petals spread like a goblet. The flower looked delicate, but the colours accented her hair as well as the Gryffindor colours.

Lily squealed and hugged Hermione tight.

The torches were starting to light themselves as the night lights were flickering from the castle.

"We better get back before one of the professors catches us out wandering after hours on the grounds," Hermione said with a grin.

They quickly got to their feet and scrambled back to Hogwarts, their robes flickering behind them like flags.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Father,

Thank you ever so much for helping me order the boots for my friend via owl-post. He loved them, I think, and I'm pretty sure it was the first set of tailored dragon hide boots to grace his feet. I remember your lessons when you had me pick out my very first set with Sirius. I remember the look on your face when Sirius accidentally picked out women's boots and you tried to tell him he couldn't have them. The expression on your face, papa… I will remember it forever.

It made me so angry that they picked on my friend in the middle of class in front of so many other people. Not only picked on, but ruined his shoes in a manner that could not be repaired by magic. That ectoplasm is nasty stuff, and I swear the first enchantment that I'm going to figure out is how to repel it from shoes.

It seems odd telling you that you raised me to be better than these people since you are the one that taught me, after all, but the problem I am having is realising that I may know better, but others seem to be slower in their lessons. Be patient, I know. I hear you in my head telling me to be patient. I'm trying, papa, I swear. People just make me so… angry sometimes.

Sorry for sending this letter so late, but I had to write you before I fell asleep. Please give my love to Regulus and mother.

All my love,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**A/N:** Had to take a break from case studies. ABALHFHGHGHFFFFF! (Ok I'm good) Posted this chapter early because it was sitting here half done, so I finished it and figured I'd post it. I promise the next chapter will be for Looks! It's even half written, I swear! *ducks vegetables*


	8. Hide and Go Phoenix

**A/N: Grey Wren: **You've commented twice now, and I feel that I owe you at least an explanation. I do not like to respond to guest entries, usually, because it sort of spams the chapter entry, and I would like to keep it to a minimum.

I feel that super-male characters were played up enough in the canon books, and while I do write a world experienced Hermione, I feel there is a big difference between having the world experience of a thirty year old set in an 11 year old body versus a Hermione who simply blows up everything in her path like the next incumbent Dark Lord. Whether I succeed completely in my portrayal, I do not know, but alas, I happen to find Hermione's character fascinating and horribly underplayed in the canon books. It was Harry Potter's story, after all, and it was through his bias that we viewed his world, for good or bad.

As for James and Sirius. That was day one, and as clever and bright as both James and Sirius are, they are both character that I see need a purpose to hone their skill. They need a reason. The Marauder's map and becoming animagi were all founded in purposes. Remus being the ultimate reason. Even Hermione, while she did make a sharp metal thing that resembled a needle on her first try, did not make a perfect one. I would not expect James and Sirius to do much better. Again. Reason. They both require one.

As for the Apprenticeship, I see a formal one as being something that starts young. As young, perhaps, as humanly possible. Had Minerva met her at the age of 5, I'm sure she'd have snapped her up. Much like the old-school trade apprenticeships, the Master picked their Apprentice the moment they were old enough to hold the tools, and Hermione can hold the tools, so Minerva wants her as soon as possible. You start teaching them before they learn bad habits, and Minerva has no reason at all to think Hermione is anything but a gifted witch with potential to excel as her chosen Apprentice.

I am sorry you have not found enjoyment of the story I have set. It saddens me, but, I am well enough in my own faults to know I cannot please everyone. I wish you well, in whatever other story you move on to.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 8: Hide-and-go-Phoenix**

My Dearest Sister,

Hermione! Hermione! Where have your letters gone! I have not received a letter in a week! Have you been buried under your coursework? Did you fall off your broom during flying class? Did a potion blow up in your face? Tell me! Please? Is there drama? I so want to know.

I adored the box of winter-berries you sent. I will not even ask how you acquired them. I can only guess, and believe me my guesses can rival the works of the great authors! I sneaked a few to father as you asked and he's been walking around the house with this Kneazle ate the canary look about him ever since.

Did you know that father is secretly fancying an orange ball of fluff Kneazle kitten that keeps showing up on our kitchen window in the mornings? He keeps feeding it scraps from his plate. He's doing it all while Mother is conveniently not around to notice. The kitten seems really smart, has this adorable lion tail, and these overly large almost bat-like ears. It never shows up when Mother is around. I've caught him asleep in Father's lap while he's reading in the library. Can you imagine what will happen if Mother finds out? She wouldn't even let us have familiars until "we are the proper age for such things." Since when is there a proper age to have a familiar? I think she's just making excuses because a cute ball of fluff in her lap would ruin her image. Personally, I think it could only improve her image, but I will deny everything if you tell! (Please don't tell… I still have to live here another year before Hogwarts!)

Mother has left the house for a few days to attend a witches' gathering in Italy. I say few days, but it will probably be a week or more. You know mother. You can't pry her out of the house without her trying to claw the floors to stay, but once she's out, she doesn't want to come back for weeks. I think father is really enjoying the peace and quiet. He's let the little orange blighter have free reign in the house while she's away. I caught Kreacher petting him too!

I miss you and Sirius so much. It's not the same without you both around, even if most of that time was spent with your twin tormenting me at every turn with his teasing.

All my love,

Regulus (his seal, the sickle)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione was little super-sensitive about her faults and often went into flurries of activities to make her feel better about the things she could do well. One of those things had been and seemingly always would be… flying.

The irony of her trouble with brooms and the fact she was a phoenix animagus was not lost on her in the slightest. As she stood there on the green, the broom finally answering her call for "up!" and in her hand, she felt utterly stupid about what to do next.

Lily, who seemed utterly dubious about the entire concept of riding a broom at all, stared at the broom with thinly veiled suspicion. "I feel like any moment now a tornado is going to suck me up and transport me to Oz!"

Hermione lifted a brow. If she started bursting into song and singing _Over the Rainbow_, Hermione was going to hide herself in the Dark Forest with the centaurs.

Lily stared at Hermione and Severus, who were giving her identical expressions of lifted eyebrows and pursed lips.

"Come on," Lily whined. "_Wizard of Oz_?" She sagged her shoulders. "You two are hopeless. I wish I could just drag you home with me and force you to sit and watch classic Muggle movies with me."

Severus made a shuddering motion as Hermione shook her head. It wasn't in denial or even refusal, but she let Lily assume that she had no idea what Muggle anything was.

"It would be nice, for once, to have friends over that Petunia couldn't intimidate," Lily said darkly, her brows furrowing.

Madam Hooch was wandering down the line, assisting students with the subtleties of beginning flying before they could learn "bad habits" had a strange timeless quality about her. She looked very much the same as she did in Hermione's past, her featherlike silver hair and hawkish eyes watched the goings on on the green and missed very little.

Hooch, who had insisted Hermione call her Rolanda once she had started Apprenticing under Minerva the first time around, had a wealth of knowledge to share and wasn't stingy about sharing it. She offered her opinions as nothing more than that, did not judge others for theirs unless they hurt others, and had a glorious smile when she allowed herself to show it. She was, unlike some of the other Professors, truly a neutral party. She weighed character of the person by their deeds, not their house, and she was just as likely to save a Slytherin as a Hufflepuff from falling to their death from astride a broom.

Now, Hermione found the situation slightly awkward. No longer able to call upon her with familiarity, she had to address her professor as Madam Hooch, and it felt as though she had taken strides backwards in regards to their relationship. Still, Hermione respected the elder witch greatly.

"Your turn, Miss Black," Hooch said with a quiet yet stern tone. "Fly over to the goal over there, ring the bell, and come back."

"Yes, Madam Hooch," Hermione said immediately, mounting her broom and kicking off the ground. It still felt odd riding a broom, even now, and she wasn't sure why it never became natural. Harry and Ron rode brooms like it was the most natural thing to do in the world. Hermione, however, preferred apparition if she really had to be somewhere fast. If she wanted to enjoy the scenery, she preferred her own wings. At least she couldn't fall off her own wings. That would be terribly embarrassing.

As she flew towards the far goal, gaining altitude to get to the top, her broom lurched strangely, almost as if it had run into something. It began to buck like a Muggle horse, and Hermione silently panicked as all the reasons she didn't like brooms came rushing to the front of her mind. Then, just as suddenly, the broom evened out and was as compliant as a broom should be. Hermione zoomed to the top of the goal post and rang the bell, turned, and zoomed back to the ground, hopping off. She resisted the impulse to kiss the aforementioned ground and sing its praises in front of the class.

Hooch touched her shoulder. "Are you all right, dear? I saw your broom lurch half way, but it seemed to be okay after a few seconds."

Hermione nodded. "I'm okay. It was scary a moment though."

Hooch nodded. "Let me have your broom then, Miss Black. I'm going to have it looked at for hexes or some sort of prank left over from a previous class."

Hermione shook her head and handed over the broom with relief.

Rolanda, bless her, never failed to be both practical and safety conscious. She tested one of the brooms out to make sure it was safe and had the class share it amongst themselves for the rest of the period.

Rolanda assigned the class a short essay on safety and emergency dismounts, saying that sometimes, despite everything you did being right, accidents did happen. The next class, she said, would be learning the dismounts in practicum.

"What happened mid way?" Severus asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

Hermione shook her head. "The broom just started bucking. Then, after a few seconds, it stopped."

"I grabbed it out of the closet with the others," Severus said. "It wasn't to the side or anything."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not blaming you, Severus. It was probably some prank, like Madam Hooch said."

Severus still looked guilty. "Still, I'm the one who gave you the broom."

Hermione touched his arm and squeezed it. "I don't blame you, Severus. It could have been me that picked it up and gave it to you just as well."

He nodded after a while.

Lily zoomed up on the broom she was using and hopped down, handing it off to Severus. "That was fun. I want my own broom once we're allowed to have them."

Severus eyed the broom and shook his head. "Madam Hooch created a monster."

Hermione shoved him on the shoulder, shooing him off.

Severus gave a lop-sided grin, hopped on the broom, and pushed off, but this time, the broom started bucking the moment he lifted off.

"Madam Hooch!" Lily screeched.

The flying instructor leapt into action, her wand out. She chanted something in rapid succession, and the bucking broomstick settled down, allowing Severus to get off. His eyes were wide and confused. "Lily was just on it…"

"Class, I am going to have to let you go a little early, this afternoon," Madam Hooch said. "Are you okay, Mr. Snape?"

Severus nodded.

Rolanda waved her wand, drawing all the brooms to her in a bundle. "Jinxing brooms. What is this world coming to?" she mumbled. She shooed the rest of the students away, much to their disappointment. Flying class was one of those classes most people wanted to be in class for. It was greatly important, Hooch would argue, that a witch or wizard learning how to fly on a broom and do it well was as important if not a critical lesson as much as learning basic potions, transfiguration, or charms. People could floo to places on the network, apparate if they had a license, but if they wanted a little freedom at all, the broom was the only way to go short of walking or… using Muggle methods of getting there.

"This is my favourite class, mate. This sucks," James complained loudly with the gathered Gryffindor. "Now all we have to go to is Herbology."

Lily sulked. "We were supposed to do relay races today," she pouted. "I was looking forward to it." She looked at Severus with a saddened gaze.

Severus, perhaps slightly guilty for being the one that triggered the chain reaction with Madam Hooch, slumped.

"Hey," Hermione interjected. "It's not like it was anyone's fault, unless someone really did jinx those brooms. We'll have class again soon enough, hopefully with brooms less apt to buck people off."

Lily rolled her shoulders. "I guess."

"Pomfrey is teaching about Devil's Snare today," Severus said.

"That doesn't sound at all nice," Lily said.

"Never know when you might need to know about plants that want to kill you," Hermione said with a half smile.

Lily scoffed and dragged the both of them off the green towards their next class. "Come on," she tutted. "At least now we can be early and get choice seats."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Devil's Snares, as it turned out, were ornery plants. Not only were they highly offended when anything "invaded" their personal space, but they weren't too keen on being driven back by light either. For each vine that shrunk away from the light, another from the darker areas shot out to make a pest of itself.

Tendrils from the snares extended out and snagged a blond Slytherin witch by the ankle and dragged her in. The witch screamed in fright, and Professor Sprout slung a bright orb of light at the snare to drive it back, but another tendril whipped out of nowhere and snatched Sprout's wand. Sprout let out a chain of curses fit for a row with the Venomous Tentacula and flung a radiant solar orb into the air with wandless magic.

The snares relinquished their hold upon the student, Sprout's wand, and a bookbag it had apparently taken an interest in, and a quiet peace settled upon the greenhouse.

Hermione and Severus pulled the frightened witch out of harm's way by her robe, dragging her back towards the safety of of the light.

In the meantime, the snare was tearing apart the book bag for something, making a mess and a great cacophony of noises doing so.

"Miss Shafiq," Professor Sprout huffed, putting her wand in her pocket. "Are you okay?"

"I think so, Professor," the blond witch said after a while. Her eyes were still wide.

Hermione and Severus stared at their hands. A dark red liquid was dripping from their hands.

"Oh dear, are you bleeding?" Sprout said with concern.

Severus sniffed his fingers. "No, Ma'am," he said softly. "There was something on her robes."

Hermione sniffed her fingers as well and frowned as the sticky red fluid dripped off her hands. "It's all over your back, Jaysanna," Hermione said, pointing at the damp spot on Shafiq's back.

Sprout summoned a brighter light over to look at Jaysann's back. "Oh dear, Oh dear, it… smells like… red palm oil. Some of the plants here love the stuff. It's chalk full of vitamins and nutrients which makes the Devil's Snare extremely eager to get it's vines into it." Sprout took her wand out and muttered a cleaning spell, cleaning the red oil off the witch's back with a tutting noise.

"You two, go run your hands on the stalk of that plant over there, dears. The plant will love you for it. It will probably try to lick it off you, Don't be alarmed now. It's not like the Devil's Snare at all," Sprout said, shooing Hermione and Severus off to transfer the oil off their hands onto the nearby foliage.

Severus and Hermione stared at each other a moment and shrugged, rubbing their hands over the dry stalk of a nearby potted plant, and just as Sprout predicted, the flower bulb opened and rubbed itself over their hands and very thoroughly took their hands into it's "mouth" and licked them clean.

Slightly unnerved, the pair of them slowly pulled their hands back once it was done, and were surprised to note that their hands now smelled a bit like citrus and weren't sticky at all.

"I'm afraid whose ever bag that is, is going to have to get a replacement," Sprout said with a shake of her head. She eyed the scraps of what remained of someone's unfortunate book bag. "Let this be a reminder to those of you using red palm oil in any projects in potions or in herbology, students. It is a marvellous fertiliser, but you need to be very careful where you use it if you happen to be in the greenhouse. Mr. Potter, I highly recommend you not poke the fanged geraniums. They are quite cranky near the full moon, and I'm sure you don't want to lose a finger."

James stopped jabbing the plant near him, and Sirius was shaking his head at him.

"All right then, class," Sprout said cheerfully. "Now that we have learned first hand a little about our friend the Devil's Snare, who can tell me about the Moly plant?"

The class settled into a dull roar of activity, hand waving, and discussions over random plants, but Severus and Hermione eyed the remains of the book bag torn to pieces by the Devil's snare.

A scrap of gold and crimson trimming lay on the tile of the greenhouse, flickering every so slightly in the wind.

The pair exchanged glances and then returned to the lesson at hand and attempting to beat Lily to the answers over Herbology.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A few days later, Hermione flew over the canopy of the Dark Forest with interest, spinning in the air as wind blew through her primary wing feathers. She flung herself into the thermals, allowing them to drive her upwards and then she slowly glided down, allowing her wings to barely touch the top of the forest trees. She had sneaked away from the social politics of the Slytherin House, and left Severus and Lily to bond over a large tome on the history of magic.

Thestrals moaned their whale-like sounds as they flew above the trees then dived back into the dark of the forest. Young thestral colts and fillies nipped at her tail feathers as she passed, curious as to her activity in the Dark Forest.

Hermione did lazy loops around the thestral youngsters before darting through the canopy, diving under it for a time, then popping back up.

Fall was in high gear, turning the leaves brilliant ranges of red, orange, yellow, and chartreuse. It was the season of flames. Each tree and bush seemed to be on fire with colour, and the rustling of each leaf seemed to rattle like an instrument against each other.

This was the season of plenty in the forest, and almost every tree and bush within the depths of the forest had some sort of bounty that was just waiting to be harvested.

There were copses of trees within the forest that bore more exotic fruits, hidden within the depths of the centaurs' territory. And there was one copse in particular that was of interest to a certain hungry phoenix.

Hermione landed in the huge tree she was looking for and let out a string of melodious notes, knowing that her four legged allies would hear her call and know what it meant.

Hundreds and hundreds of seed pods hung from the trees' branches, clinging tightly to the branches in their stubbornness not to fall. Hermione examined the one nearest her, tapping it firmly with her beak, making a hollow clunking noise. Perfect.

She set herself to flames, and clasped the large pod with her talons, wrapping her wings around surface so her fire hugged the precious pod. The surface of the pod crackled, hundreds of tiny razor spines melted in the heat and the outer shell of the seed pod cracked open, exposing the bright red fruit pulp and heavy seeds within.

Hermione dug her beak into the cracks of the pod, seeking the tasty plump and seeds with gusto, her beak making short work of the edible loot within.

There was stirring down below, and the centaur herd stirred below her. Meliton lifted his arm silently, and Hermione grasped the nearby fruit in her talons, plucking it, and flew downward, dropping the prize into the centaur's waiting hand.

Meliton lifted his arm after tossing the fruit into Solon's hands. Hermione landed on it, carefully curving her talons around his arm.

"We normally must let those we cannot reach rot, herd sister," Meliton said. "Thousands of pods go to waste, unable to be harvested by even the most ingenious squirrel. I see you have different ideas."

Hermione let out a string of happy notes.

Theron trotted up with a load of tarps strapped to his back. The young colts and fillies galloped up, tugging the tarps off him, and helped plaster the ground under the tree with them. Their dams walked up with large baskets lashed to their withers.

Hermione smiled birdishly. Centaurs were amazingly prepared for spontaneous acts of foraging, and Hermione found it very admirable.

Knowing her duty, Hermione flew up into the canopy and set herself to flames, snapping the pods free of the branches and embracing each pod until they cracked then released it down to the ground with a crash.

Young centaurs whooped in glee, gathering the shattered pods and seeds. The males gathered the stubborn pods that refused to crack, moving them into a fire they had built until they burst and then moved the shells aside for the others to clean the pulp and seeds out.

Every few piles of pods, Hermione could come down to visit, and the young centaurs would take turns "feeding the hungry phoenix." Hermione play nipped at their fingers as they extended the seeds to her, and she bobbed her head in amusement as she crunched them to bits with her strong beak.

Meliton taught the young ones how to dig holes and plant seeds around the copse and on the outer fringes, directing them to cushion the hole with leaf litter to protect the seeds for their long winter dormancy before the spring triggered their germination.

"Now, when you have foals of your own," Milton said knowingly, "Your children will have even more trees to gift your winters with food."

The youth patted down the planted seeds in so many holes that even if an army of hungry creatures came to sniff out the hidden caches, there would many more saplings to survive in the spring.

Hermione went back to her duty and sent pod after pod falling down to the ground to be gathered. By the time Meliton signalled that they had a full haul to bring back, Hermione didn't complain when one of the young centaurs wrapped his arms around her and pinned her panting bird body against him.

It was Firenze—a younger, thinner, and innocent in the face Firenze, but she could recognise him as she recognised her younger self. He laughed as her head feathers rose up with her curiosity, and she laid her head over his shoulder as he carried her with along the trail back to their main camp.

His herdmates, however, wanted in on the game of carry the phoenix, and by the time they arrived back at the camp, Hermione had been carried head up, head down, wings out, wings pressed, and helter-skelter until Meliton rescued her by letting her perch on his arm like a hunter's hawk.

By the time Hermione parted ways with the centaurs, the sun was just starting to sink below the horizon, and she spotted movement of two figures making their way to the infamous whomping willow.

Borrowing a measure of stealth from her familiar's own habits, she banked silently in the air, curiosity demanding to be sated.

Poppy was escorting a young boy wizard with light brown hair over the rocky path to the willow, which made Hermione even more curious. Poppy wasn't the type to go on long strolls in the moonlight on any given day. It was hard enough to envision her being outside of Hogwarts.

Hermione's head feathers poofed out almost straight up as she looked up above the darkening horizon. Tonight was the full moon. That boy was Remus Lupin.

Pity stung in Hermione's heart. There would be no Marauders to watch over him this early at Hogwarts. There would be no company to keep him from clawing and biting himself for lack of human victims to bite… and the wolfsbane potion was yet to be perfected by Damocles. Her kind, future DADA instructor was doomed to suffer it alone for five more years before the other Marauders would perfect their animagus forms to keep their werewolf friend company.

Hermione remembered the multiple self-inflicted scars on the elder Lupin's body… places where he had scratched, bitten, and otherwise tortured himself in his youth. The irony was, other wounds he healed quite quickly, he had told her once, but his own marks upon himself did not.

Hermione felt a trickle of tears trail down her beak from her eyes. Lupin had deserved a long and happy life with Nymphadora Tonks and his son, Teddy, but it wasn't to be. She could only hope, in her minds eye, that he had gained some semblance of peace fighting for a world his son could live, grow up, and prosper in.

Hermione watched Poppy Pomfrey take her leave of the young wizard, activating the whomping willow by the switch to keep guard over Remus' exiled hiding place. She eyed the small tunnel, hidden amongst the willow's large roots. The willow swayed, as if anticipating her thoughts.

Very well, she thought to herself. I'm not as slow as I used to be the first time I tangled with you, you overgrown tentacula.

Hermione zoomed forward, setting herself on fire as she flew. Branches swing over and under her, aiming for her body but hitting the empty air instead. When it did come eerily close, however, her flames seemed to give the dangerous tree pause, and she dove down the tunnel like a spirit attempting to escape Hades with Cerberus right on her heels.

Hermione made her way down the tunnel to a hatch above her, and she shifted into human form in order to manipulate the hatch. Her phoenix form was natural to her and even useful more often than not, but trapdoors were not a phoenix speciality, unless she wanted to burn a hole thought it, which would completely defeat the purpose of having it there.

As soon as she went through and pulled herself up into the floor above her, she shut the trapdoor and shifted again. The trapdoor was designed ingeniously to be impossible for a werewolf to open in their animal form from the opposite side, but there were magical handholds embedded into them for when Remus woke in the morning. Remus had once said that Dumbledore himself had commissioned the place in order to give the lonely werewolf a safe place to endure his transformations, and the little things he had made sure were there, such as the trapdoor, spoke of a type of foresight that was no small measure of consideration.

"Who's there?" A scared male voice said from the other room. "Poppy did you forget something? You shouldn't be here…" Lupin made a pained sound. The change was approaching already.

Hermione talon-walked towards the door, letting out a string of musical notes, and silence greeted her. She walked into the next room, where Lupin was waiting in his skivvies. He shoved his clothes into the nearby heavy wardrobe so he could retrieve them later when all was said and done. At first the boy looked embarrassed that someone might see him like that, but as he saw her bird form, he visible relaxed.

"Fawkes?" Remus said with wonder. "What are you doing here? Did Professor Dumbledore send you?" The scrawny wizard sat on the nearby four poster bed pulling his legs to him. He was scared, she could tell. Scared and lonely above all. His mates didn't know of his affliction just yet, and even if they did, it would be years before they would be there to ease their friend's years of built up loneliness.

Hermione fluttered up to the edge of the bed and chirped.

Remus stared at her, extending a shaking hand to her.

Hermione, watching his hand hesitate, pressed her head against his hand and sang brightly. Hermione watched the song affect him. His hand soothed her feathers in a pet as his eyes watered.

"You're not Fawkes," he said in confusion. "Your wings are black, but the tips are read and orange. Your body is earthy. Your head crest is vibrant though. Like flames… and your tail. Maybe Professor Dumbledore brought you in to keep Fawkes company? Why are you here?"

Hermione rubbed up against his hand and hopped into his lap. The lonely werewolf wrapped his arms around her plump body. He'd said more to her in the last 30 seconds than he had to her since they'd met. She smiled smugly to herself that it was he doing the talking instead of her. A part of her had wanted to get Remus away from the the other Gryffindor in order to get to know him, but the opportunity had never presented itself.

Fate, if you were one to believe in such things, seemed to have its own mind of how things were work out.

Remus cried out, falling to his side as his body was wracked in spasms. He cried out in pain as his teeth clacked, bones reforming, jaw protruding, teeth reshaping inside his mouth. Blood dripped from his gums where his sharper teeth grew out the gums that were not quite accommodating his change fast enough. His nostrils flared as his face reshaped into a muzzle. Dark grey fur, very unlike his light brown hair, sprouted all over his skin. Tears ran down his face as the pain of his change took him mercilessly into its own twisted embrace.

Remus' gentle green eyes bled into the amber of the wolf, but Remus's arms wrapped around Hermione's phoenix body, refusing to let her go. His arms trembled, bones reshaped, and his hands and feet twisted into over-sized paws. Huge lupine foot pads swelled on his fingers as his digits shrank. Dark claws sprouted from the tips of his fingers, and those too were soon covered in dark grey fur.

Remus howled. His human voice twisted into something both animal and alien. It was almost as if there was a human note to the howl that was distictly not the pureness of a natural wolf. Foam flicked his mouth as his tongue lolled and his teeth clacked. His spine bowed, cracked, realigned, and locked in a different position as a tail sprouted from the base of his spine and formed into the furred one of a wolf. His ears made an odd stretching sound as they reformed near the top of his head. It resembled the sound of sand running down an hourglass and became louder as hairs sprouted everywhere he had skin. Hairs moved over his ears as they formed into triangle points.

After a few minutes of agony, however, Remus Lupin wasn't home anymore. He had become the werewolf, and his whines of pain faded into the heaviness of his breathing. Other than being quite large for a wolf, his snout was shorter and thinner. His tail was tufted, and while it was quite normal for a wolf to have a fluffy tail, perhaps, the tuft on the end was a distinctive feature.

Remus whined, his forelegs still wrapped around Hermione's body, but he hadn't hurt her. As if in apology, the werewolf began to lick her over, his raspy tongue moving her feathers one direction, another, and a few ways in between. His human shaped, but wolf coloured eyes stared at her as his nose worked to identify his newly acquired bird friend.

Remus groomed her over until the disgruntled, yet strangely tolerant phoenix looked like puffskein rather than a phoenix. He panted, relaxed, and nosed her with his cold wet nose. He made the motion to gnaw upon her, but the grip was gentle and playful, almost as if the werewolf seemed to realise that hurting one's only company made for bad manners and lack of repeat visits.

Hermione attempted to preen her feathers back into place, but her feathered crest was half slicked down with werewolf drool, giving her a punk rocker mohawk look. Hermione's eyes darted over to look at herself in the large mirror over the mantle. Fashion phoenix she was decidedly not.

Hermione hopped up, stretched, and fluttered to the nearby chair, getting her bearings, and Remus followed her like a tracking hound, tail wagging with interest. The tufted end to his tail made her grin birdishly. Moonie be damned. Remus Lupin's werewolf form was entered into her head as Tuft forever more.

Hermione eyed the werewolf following her and then quickly flew out the door to land on the banister of the stairs.

Tuft, having no desire at all to let his playmate out of his sight, followed. Hermione went up the stairs, he followed. Hermione explored the closets, he did too. Hermione tried to turn the upstairs faucet on to get a drink, and the werewolf stuck his muzzle under the running water to lap the underside of the faucet with his long tongue.

Hermione stuck her foot in between the faucet and and his face, causing the water to spray him between the eyes, and the werewolf sputtered, barked, and shook, getting water droplets everywhere. A few minutes later, as her feathers poofed out like a half soaked lint ball, she decided water games with an attentive werewolf was probably not the driest game she could have come up with. She set herself on fire to dry herself off, causing the werewolf to yelp and stumble backwards, staring at her suspiciously.

Hermione looked in the bathroom mirror and sighed. Now she looked like a dry overly fluffy puffskein. There was not a palm she could face hard enough.

Shaking her feathers into order, or at least, more order than looking like an giant overgrown cotton ball, she stared at Remus.

The werewolf looked back at her with interest, tail wagging, nose working hard to imprint her scent upon his memory.

Hermione flew out the door in a flash of coloured feathers, attempting to lose him in the rush. She dove into the next room, burying herself in a pile of old quilts.

A few minutes later, a cold nose stuck itself under the piled quilts, and long lupine tongue slurped her beak.

Tuft's tail beat against the floor loudly as he panted with interest. Hermione snaked her head out of the quilts and nailed him on the rump.

The werewolf yelped, whirled around to snarl at his own arse, and seemed confused when it didn't present itself as the proper interloper it should have.

Hermione used the distraction to hide herself somewhere else in the shack, and sure enough, a few minutes later, his nose would find her. Sometimes she darted out. Sometimes he carried her by wrapping his mouth around her wings and toting her around like a favourite toy.

Despite the fact he was, undoubtedly, a werewolf, he had the soft mouth of a hunter's dog, and never once did he pierce her wings or even bend a feather out of place. After he tired of carrying her around, he leapt up onto the forgotten four poster bed and laid down, laying her down between his legs and setting his head over her. His tail continued to thump against the mattress as he did it, even when his eyes came to a close.

When Hermione tried to leave, Remus would give out a horribly mournful howl, and he stared at her with his amber, yet oddly human eyes.

Finally, Hermione decided that it wasn't doing her heart any good trying to leave the lonely werewolf, and she tucked her head under her wing as Remus laid his head over her body like a guard dog as the both of them closed their eyes and fell asleep.

When Hermione arrived at the breakfast table the next morning with her hair looking like she was trying for a mohawk, Severus and Lily were giving her odd stares. Others were too, but they were at least doing her the courtesy of attempting not to gain her notorious morning ire.

"I had a long night," Hermione said as she drank her juice.

"Obviously," Severus said, passing her the crumpets.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Anyone know, in canon, what "time" Lupin was forced to transform? Not just on the full moon, I mean… time like… 11pm? Sunset? The moment the full moon actually moved over the horizon? I cannot remember if it was at a certain time or only when the full moon could be seen or some combination in between. For the purpose of "now," I'm going to imagine it being when the full moon actually graces the skies in it's glory, but once the transformation is triggered, he's stuck like that until dawn. This might make cloudy nights on full moons both a blessing and a curse…


	9. Student Becomes Teacher

**Chapter 9: The Student Becomes the Teacher**

Dearest Regulus,

I cannot believe that father is harbouring a Kneazle in the house. Did you know that they are excellent judges of character? They are utterly like cats and rarely share their methods or reasons, but I can totally see father dotting on a kitten under mother's stern eye.

Do you remember father's old cat from the photo albums? That manky old cat that lost more hair than old Elder Baneberry? He loved that old cat so much, even though it was technically his mother's familiar. He was so… haunted when they found that cat in the public park. Grandmother didn't stop crying for months. That was the first story he ever told me on how cruel Muggles could be. I refuse to believe that all Muggles are like that. After all… whoever is causing all this drama at in my classes is a wizard or a witch, so apparently cruelty has nothing to do with whether you have magic. Magic, if anything, makes your being a arse even more horrible. So help me, Regulus, you are not allowed to be an arse. There are too many of those, and I haven't even reached my second year yet.

There have been odd instances lately involving our houses. I was half bucked off my broom during flying class. My friend Severus was bucked off his in the same class. A girl in my Herbology class got attacked by a Devil's Snare plant because she had somehow gotten covered by red palm oil of all things. How do you "accidentally" get covered in red palm oil? Don't answer that. I'm sure you and Sirius both did some horrible pranks together that I absolutely refuse to let you do once you are at Hogwarts! Sirius is bad enough. I'm not sure what's going on in his head anymore. He's my twin, but I think he's really trying to fit in with his Gryffindor friends. I want to have friends, you know? It's just… I don't know. Hard to see him be so… different. I couldn't stand it if you pulled away from me too, Regulus. It would break a part of me, and I already feel a bit broken without my twin.

Have you thought about what you want to bring to Hogwarts as a familiar, Regulus? If you say toad, I'm going to tickle torture hex you!

Last weekend was Hogsmeade weekend, but we first years are not allowed to go until third year. I'm so jealous. I think Sirius found a way to sneak out there. He and his friends had a load of candy from Honeydukes, but they weren't sharing how they got it. Sirius did sneak me a bar of chocolate though, so he's sort of forgiven. I will deny everything if you tell.

I'm looking forward to the Hallowe'en Feast. The big feasts are always exciting. I think you'll love them. I sneaked a few of the pumpkin tarts out of the Great Hall for you. I hope Sagacity doesn't eat them before he gets there! The only thing he loves more than frog legs and rabbits is our pastries!

All my love,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Eaugh!" Lily moaned, squinting in disgust. "Must he eat that in front of us?"

Sagacity was tearing into a rabbit as he perched on the nearby boulder. He hooted at Lily.

Lily turned her head away. "That's so disgusting." Every time she looked towards the owl, two black bunny eyes stared back at her from under the owl's feet. She shuddered. "How can you two just… eat while he's tearing that poor bunny to pieces?" Lily whined.

Severus lifted a brow. "You do realise that overpopulation of wild rabbits does more damage to the fields of plants you so adore in Herbology than any other pest in the world, yes?"

Lily shook her head in denial. "They're so cute," she whined.

"Lily, are you telling me that if an invasion of overpopulated rabbits accosted your garden and ate all of your snow peas you love so much that you'd just calmly adore them to death?" Severus asked.

Lily flushed and turned her head to look away, realised she was staring at Sagacity eating his lunch, and quickly turned her head the other direction.

Hermione, in the meantime, munched on her grapes, trying to remain as neutral as possible, but it was exceedingly more difficult.

Lily decided to change the subject. "Did you hear that Madam Hooch found out that the brooms were jinxed? All of them were."

"All of them? Jinxed with what?" Severus growled.

Hermione's head shot up. For a moment, he sounded a lot like Alastor Moody, which had a habit of making her pay attention for something bad to happen shortly after.

"There was a notice posted on the broom shed saying that all the brooms were being dismantled, unjinxed, and certified again before classes would start again. People with their own brooms can use them, but since we are first years…"

Hermione curled her lip. While flying lessons weren't her most favourite of classes, she understood that many did find it to be the most fun. Whoever had done the jinxing had affected the entire first year population.

"I wonder who it was," Hermione said neutrally.

"As much as I would hate to give up on an opportunity to blame Potter for the transgression with the brooms," Severus grunted. "Would he be that stupid to sabotage the entire first year class out of flying lessons just to get at Slytherins?"

"Why do you say just Slytherins?" Lily said. "That's not very nice, Severus."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Because the only people who had problems with the brooms… were Slytherin."

Lily frowned. "It's horrible you think that way. It could have been chance."

Hermione and Severus exchanged glances, seemingly realising that Lily still lived in a world where kindness overruled random cruelty and her sister would one day welcome her back with open arms and smiles on the holidays.

It was that same sort of naivety that was endearing, frustrating, and ultimately a part of the red-headed witch.

The trio looked up as a loud cry came from the paddocks and shelters Professor Kettleburn kept his magical creatures for his class. It looked like a class was gathered around one of Hogwarts' herd hippogriffs, and one of the students had leapt over the paddock fence in their haste to get away from one of the irate animals.

"That didn't look very encouraging," Severus said dryly.

"Oooo," Lily cooed. "A hippogriff! We should go look!"

"I have no desire to get my face kicked in," Severus grumbled.

"Sevvvvvvv," Lily complained, dragging out his nickname so far, she might as well have used his full name. "Come ooooon. We don't have to get up close!"

Severus tried to go back to reading his book, but Lily grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him behind her. Severus looked back, giving Hermione a "help me, please!" look that went across his panicked face.

Hermione slumped and followed behind, feeling like no matter what time period she was living in that she was doomed forever to be part of some trio where she was being dragged long to prevent some sort of calamity. Thinking back to her "second" childhood as the sister of Sirius and Regulus Black… her hypothesis was turning into more of a theory.

Sagacity flew lazily behind her as if to bring up the idea that counting him made it four and her logic was invalid.

Hermione hustled to join her friends, shaking her head as she went.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Remus woke again in a bed in the hospital wing, which was nothing new. His parents had always confined him to bed after his changes with the same regularity that they had caged him every full moon. What was new, however, was not aching from countless self-inflicted wounds from his inner werewolf's frustrations with being imprisoned with no one to bite. Never in his life had he experienced that since Fenrir Greyback "gifted" him with his bite.

"Ah, are you up, dear?" Poppy Pomfrey asked gently as she carried a tray of food and drink to his bed, and for once, he was starving. Normally after a change the last thing he wanted was food. It hurt too much to breathe, let alone to eat.

With vague memories of waking up curled on top of a four poster bed, Remus remembered waking, finding his clothes, and stumbling out the tunnel to meet Madam Pomfrey in the morning. He also remembered a solitary phoenix that had kept him company both through his change and after it. His inner wolf had joyously shared his moon night with the mysterious visiting bird, and while Remus could not control what the wolf did, he had watched the goings on without the panic and despair that normally haunted three out of thirty-some nights of the month.

Remus attacked the plate of food like it was going to vanish if he didn't. His stomach growled as he stuffed it with lunch. His nostrils flared as his stomach decided to excuse him from the shovelling of sustenance into it. The scent of his night companion lingered on his own skin, merged with his own in a kind of harmony that was wonderfully calming. Water for a boy trapped in a wasteland…

The night would bring the change once more, and a part of Remus hoped desperately his unexpected bird friend would return. Perhaps the Headmaster had sent him a companion to keep him company? But what if it hadn't been? Keeping the phoenix a secret was probably best. If Dumbledore had sent it, he would already know. If he didn't, what would it hurt to have a secret friend to keep him company under the moon? Surely fate would be kind to him just this once?

Remus looked out the hospital window.

"Please," he whispered, placing his pale hand on the windowsill. "Please be there tonight."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione stared off into the distance as the storm began to roll in, covering the night sky with dark clouds. She tilted her head as the wind picked up, sending her hair flying in many directions.

Thoughts darted through her mind like the clouds danced across the horizon, and she pondered who she could trust in a time where redemption and the Abyss teetered on the same rope of Fate.

The smell of rain was almost intoxicating. It always was for her, at least as far as she could remember. The energy of the Earth combined with the scent of petrichor in a way that was far more powerful than than simple scent.

Hermione Granger had once sat on the back porch of her parent's house on many a stormy night, listening to the crackles and booms in between the drops of rain. The scent had always carried the loam of earth mixed with leaves and flowers. It was, in many ways, her favourite scent.

Hermione Black, however, had sat on many a stormy night in the park across from the family home, nestled in a small stone park shelter as the storm attempted to beat sense into the ground and serenade her with thundering booms.

It had been there that Orion Black trudged out into the storm to find his wayward daughter hiding out in the Muggle park, surrounded by flowers, rain, statuaries, and fountains. It had become her hiding place when her mother became too hard to bear with her demands of proper behaviour at the "perfectly acceptable age of five."

Orion, however, knew his daughter's heart beat with the flow of magic, to magic she would always return—Earth magic, perhaps, the purest of all. He would sit beside her silently, often watching the storm with her together, or waiting until she crawled into his lap and cried, depending on which situation had brought her there.

Hermione Granger had heard the worst of stories about both Orion and Walburga Black—stories that had even condemned his younger brother as a treacherous Death Eater. Sirius had died before he had ever found out the truth about his younger brother, and Sirius had died before he could really explain why the photos in the old albums had seemed almost normal despite his horror stories of his family. She did not doubt that Sirius' falling out with his family had been dire, but Regulus had been nothing but the most doting of little brothers who worshipped the ground his older siblings walked upon.

Had Sirius truly been so blinded by hate of the Slytherin House that he broke the bond between he and his younger brother so easily or had something intrinsic changed in the Black Family dynamic with the addition of one Hermione Black?

Orion, while stern in many ways of the public image that the family had to adhere to, held much compassion in his heart for his children, and despite the shaking of his head when his wife went on her tirades about one thing or another, he loved her too.

Hermione loved her father, she knew in her heart this was so, and both Hermione Granger and Hermione Black agreed that Orion was a man who did everything possible to insure his children had every opportunity to succeed, even though some of those opportunities were squandered and wasted on Sirius, who, like the pun of his name, didn't always take his life seriously in the slightest.

While Hermione had learned to bow to her parents' wishes with most things to keep the peace, her twin seemed to make a point of doing the exact opposite. He desired a type of freedom that his bloodline did not offer him. He wanted to stand by his own merit instead of the name. It was all perfectly well, until he tried to hock one of his great great great grandfather's antique clocks at a Muggle shop for some yet unknown purpose. Orion had dragged the boy back, rescuing the poor clock before it could be sold, and Walburga's shrieking had sent Hermione and Regulus hiding in the wardrobe with Kreacher for the rest of the evening.

When she thought about it, that was probably why Kreacher had so little respect for her twin. The house-elf was perfectly fine with Regulus and Hermione, but gave Sirius about as much respect as one would give mountain troll. There was a certain respect for his power, being a Black, but that was where it stopped. It was Kreacher that soothed Hermione and Regulus as they hid away until Orion had eventually come to "rescue" them and put them to bed. Kreacher had always had to clean up the mess of the elder son of the Black family. It was no wonder that the house-elf had no respect or trust for her twin. To get such a thing, one had to give the same, and the two of them seemed fated to be at each other's throats for as long as they drew breath.

Trust. Who could she trust now that her life was so very intertwined in this "new" life? She would have to embrace her inner Slytherin and make both allies and friends to stand beside her in the time to come. A part of her whined that it didn't matter if someone was a friend as long as they were useful, while the part of her that remained truthful to what was once Gryffindor snarled at that part of her to shut the front door.

"You have that look about you," Severus said as he flopped down beside her.

Hermione turned her head to the side with a smirk. "Oh?"

"That far off gaze that says you are thinking very hard on something has nothing to do with the most obvious of topics," Severus said, looking at the storm clouds with her.

Hermione chuckled. Not even a year into Hogwarts and the boy knew her well. "You are probably right. Where is Lily?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Off bonding with her Gryffindor female friends," he said. "She said they were going to try and brew some new hair conditioner. The last time she invited me for that particular project, my hair ended up looking like this. I refuse to humour her this time."

Hermione's eyes widened as she realised that Severus' hair looked so shiny that it almost looked oily. The subtle satin sheen of his normal hair had transformed into something reminiscent of the old "greasy" description she remembered from her past. She had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing.

Severus waved his hand as though it didn't matter, but she knew he was irritated with his red-headed friend.

Hermione tentatively reached out to touch Severus' hair and realised it was silky and light to the touch despite it's appearance. "At least the conditioner part worked?"

Severus snorted.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "You know how Professor McGonagall is an animagus, right?"

"Mmmhmm," Severus said noncommittally.

"Ever wonder what you'd be if you studied for it?" Hermione asked.

Severus sniffed. "What I would want and what I'd be would probably end up being completely different."

"Do tell," Hermione said.

Severus looked skyward, nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of the distant rain. "I…" he struggled to say what he both wanted to share and keep secret at the same time.

Hermione waited. Befriending Severus had been something she knew the old Hermione Granger would have balked at. Yet, at the same time, she would have marvelled at the chance to know the true Severus Snape… something his death had not allowed and his portrait had only given a shadow of a relationship.

Who she was now, however, had befriended him easily, starting with the innocent childlike question of "will you be my friend?" Severus had shown none of the inclination to be anything but the most dutiful of friends, tolerant of Lily's eccentricities, and silently supportive, even if he couldn't express himself in epic prose or moving speeches, but then again, what eleven year old could? Well, short of Sirius, who made it his life to speak in epic prose and speeches to anyone who would listen. It made what Severus did say, however, special.

Severus, the portrait, had once speculated what it would have been like to have a friend that stuck by him to the end. He had confessed, sombrely, that what he had as a student, save Lily, were not truly friends as they were House alignment allies, and "back then" House alignment had been the key to survival.

Hermione's being here, however, had changed the dynamic. In her, he had gained both a House ally and a true friend, and Hermione did not disapprove of Lily. He did not have to make a choice between them. While Hermione hoped it would not be so, she hoped that if it came down to the act that caused Lily Evans to make the decision to repudiate her childhood friend forever for his words said in anger and humiliation, that her friendship with him would remain to temper the loss.

"I wish I could fly," Severus admitted. "I've dreamed of it ever since I was little. I would stare out my bedroom window as I listened to my father bellow… wishing to be free of the ground, but in my nightmares, I am flying only to realise I'm a snake, and I fall to the ground to my death."

Hermione raised her head, the storm winds were kicking up, filling her nostrils with the scent of rain as her hair flew in multiple directions. "I could teach you," she said into the wind. A flash of emotion flickered across her eyes.

"You are pants at brooms by your own admission," Severus said dryly.

Hermione quirked her lips. "Not by brooms. Never by brooms." She looked up. "I wouldn't have to be… so alone anymore."

Severus looked at her, perhaps finding something kindred to his own heart echoed in her expression of half pain. "You're not… alone," he said softly.

Hermione looked at him sadly. "Sometimes you can be alone surrounded in people," she admitted.

"I know it," Severus replied, his black eyes shimmered with his own past… the kind of past no child should have to experience at any age, least of all at the age of eleven.

"What if I could give you wings for a time, Severus?" Hermione whispered into the storm. "What if I could teach you to gain your own?"

Severus's expression was guarded, anticipatory, excited, and yet suspicious all at once. "What would you wish of me in return?"

Hermione smirked. So Slytherin, even now. "Nothing," she said almost sadly. "Nothing you haven't already given—your friendship."

Severus was clearly struggling inside himself. Hope was for people who hadn't been hurt in his mind. Hope required a certain trust in the unknown, and he had a hard time with trust with the known. His hunger for knowledge was fierce and Hermione could sense its power like the encroaching tide. That hunger would drive him reach beyond the present and reach towards that unknown future.

Severus swallowed hard and reached out his hand. "I would like that."

Hermione looked at him seriously, her grey eyes were so light they were silver. "Will you keep my secrets, Severus?"

"I swear it," he said hoarsely, awkwardly. It was the second confirmation since their sitting on the lake and she had asked if he and Lily would be there for her till the end.

Asking for such a promise from someone so young was asking a lot from someone who could just as easily have a new lot of friends the upcoming year. Perhaps it was the adult and hopelessly Gryffindor Hermione that believed that people should be able to know in their heart what they wanted to put into a friendship and the younger one that believed it should be possible to make a promise at the age of eleven and keep it till their dying day. Surely, the dual Hermiones could meet up somewhere in the middle and shake hands and have tea together?

But when Hermione looked into the vulnerable eyes of Severus Snape, she knew that a friend to him would be guarded like dragon on treasure. He, unlike Ron had unfortunately proven to be, valued what Hermione was offering because of what he had already been through. He had already learned to mistrust his blood family, and Hermione was offering him the opposite. She was offering him both power and knowledge with her friendship. Neither things, in her mind, had to be mutually exclusive.

Hermione clasped Severus' hand and placed her other on top. "Then, I will teach you. Starting now."

Severus' free hand came to rest on top of hers, and unbeknown to them both, tiny silken threads of a magic older than choice wove a cord between them, binding them together as surely as an unbreakable vow.

_Severus was huddled in a corner, his head cradled on his knees as his father screamed at his mother about something. Suddenly, Hermione was there, in his memory, arms around him as he wept. He wailed as he had never allowed himself to do before, bathing her neck in tears as he realised his father would never love him, and his mother would never free herself from the yoke of his father's drunken abuse._

_Hermione was huddled on the floor of Grimmauld place, crying into her arms after one of her epic fights with her mother over Sirius' "dishonourable actions." Her mother screamed at her that one day they wouldn't be there to protect her from the world, and Hermione had visions of her father's death. Her sweet, loving, sometimes overprotective, compassionate father who would sit with her in the gardens during the rain would one day be gone. Child Hermione couldn't take it. The world that had given her such wonder would, in turn, take it away. It wasn't fair. She ran to her room and slammed the door, wailing as the tears ran down her face. Severus was there instead of Sirius, arms around her in her memories, and she cried into his robes._

There was a surge of warmth between them, like the sun peaking between the clouds of a storm as they parted from each other's most painful memory. Yet, a part of each remained with the other, guarding the other's pain.

A childhood promise had become something more. How much more, however, remained to be seen.

Hermione smiled at Severus as she pulled out her wand. "Trust me, Severus," Hermione whispered. It was a question, a plead, and something more.

Severus' dark eyes met hers with a haunting echo of his older self.

"Always."

Come what may, the die was cast.

Hermione's expression was triumphant as she pointed her wand at Severus. "_Fiam est aquila_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus burst from from the top of the storm clouds with a scream of eagle glory, his huge wings pumped with awkward but steadily growing grace. He spun in the air as Hermione shot up beside him, her wings flared upon to catch the sun as the storm clouds below them rumbled in protest of their enjoyment.

Hermione sang to him, and the notes burrowed into his very soul, resonating with some emotion deep within, giving him courage.

Severus gave off an eagle scream, barrel rolling in the air, and gained altitude, then dove down to glide beside Hermione, following her wing beat by wing beat upon the rising thermals.

For hours they had played this game, showing no sign of tiring as they chased each other through the canopy of trees and clouds, over Black Lake, through the spires of Hogwarts, and beyond. With childlike acceptance, he took his transformation in stride as easily as he accepted that his friend could spontaneously change into a phoenix. There as no commonly spoken social norm that told him this was unacceptable, and they were both happy, so Severus embraced the change, revelling in the feel of the wind between his feathers.

Severus was finally gaining enough confidence in his skill with what had been until that point, no skill in using wings, and he had slowly learned conscious control over banking, rising, catching thermals, and dodging tree branches as he chased the more experience phoenix through the skies.

He wondered if it was normal for pure-blood children to know their possible animagus form long before most ever learned it possible. She was Hermione Ankaa Black, after all, her name was the very epitome of the phoenix. Had her parents known that when she was named or had some other higher power revelled in the irony? Her seal was the phoenix. Surely her family had known all along. A part of him wondered what that made her twin, Sirius. Perhaps her twin brother was fated to be his namesake: a dog.

Severus shook his head, choosing to pay attention to his friend's lessons on the wing. Flying was everything he dreamed it would be, and the spell that she had used to grant him the freedom was the ultimate gift. He had no doubt at all that he would study hard to take his own animagus form. She had promised to teach him, and she had yet to go back on her word.

Hermione led him to the strongest thermals, teaching him how to use them like invisible elevators. She taught him how to break free of them, and how to skim so close to the water of Black Lake that their wingtips touched with each flap and their talons dipped into the water.

Severus nipped at her golden tail feathers, grinning inwardly as they let off the heat of her flames. She thwacked him once upside the face with her tail, diving down through the clouds back to earth, and he gave a playful cry and followed her, his black-toned body poised in a dive as he gave chase.

Hermione had landed on the top of a house on the far outskirts of a small down he vaguely recalled as Hogsmeade. He knew that it wouldn't be until his third year that either of them would be able to visit the town on the designated weekends.

Hermione was perched on the lip of a chimney and was peering down it curiously, making soft chirping noises.

Severus landed beside her, their bulk fairly evenly matched. She was much longer in tail than he, but their proportions seemed quite similar otherwise, including the span of their feathers. Hermione was staring at the hole of the chimney, looking as though she were evaluating it. She chirped at him.

Severus looked down into the chimney, seeing the floor down below. Unlike a fireplace set to be used, it was bare down below. Surely she didn't mean to do what he thought she did?

Then, as if to answer his question. Hermione hopped into the opening, the sound of her claws scraping against the sides of the chimney to cushion her descent followed shortly after.

Severus peered down the chimney with wide eyes.

Hermione stared up at him from down below, giving an encouraging chirp.

Severus scolded her in eagle-ese.

Hermione sang to him sweetly.

If eagles could scowl, he'd be doing it, but instead, he took a breath, pinned his wings to the sides, and did the most unnaturally un-eagleish thing to do, and jumped down the chimney.

By the time he got to the bottom of the chimney, Hermione was already preening his feathers into place, which Severus begrudgingly accepted. He pecked her. "Why the hell did you have us jump down a bloody chimney?" he thought at her as he stared into her eyes.

If she actually understood him, he had no idea, but it felt better in his head to ask her the obvious question.

Hermione tugged on his wing with her beak gently, and moved her head in a "follow me" gesture. She talon walked into the next room.

Severus, awkwardly, attempted to walk on his talons, and discovered it was was about as dignified as attempting to walk on one's hands in human form—too much claw and talons to balance to make it comfortable.

In the next room, Severus saw a boy sitting on the side of the bed. Light brown hair was cut short to frame his face. Warm and friendly green eyes peered out behind the curtain of his hair over his face. "You came back…" the boy whispered. "Thank Merlin… I thought… I thought I'd be alone tonight."

Hermione chirped and sang a few notes. The boy pet her back and her wings. There were tears rolling down his face as he hugged her to him.

Hermione seemed to be okay with it, curving her neck around the boy's arms, her hooked beak resting upon his wrist.

Severus tried to remember if he had seen this boy before. The boy was sporting a distinctive lack of clothing, which made Severus a bit uncomfortable. The storm was raging outside, he could hear the rain beating on the side of the house. The colder wind was making its way down the floo of the chimney, making the inside of the house a bit cool as well. Why hadn't the fireplace been lit? Why was the boy here, in his skivvies all alone? Better yet, how had Hermione known?

"You brought a friend," the boy said sadly. "I wish I… I would… could… have friends."

Hermione chose that moment to peck the boy on the arm, and the boy yelped and soothed her apologetically.

"Don't be mad, please?" the boy said despondently. "I meant human friends," he said sadly. "Friends I wouldn't be driven to kill three days out of the month."

Hermione took his finger in her beak and squeezed it, but released it.

Severus tilted his head. What was wrong with this lonely boy who seemed convinced that friendship was so elusive. Severus had to admit, he knew the feeling well. Had it not been for Lily and Hermione, he would have been on that same bitter boat.

Hermione chirped encouragement, and finally Severus fluttered up onto the bed next to the boy and Hermione.

Black eyes met green ones as boy and eagle evaluated each other.

"My name is Remus," the boy said, "named after the mythical Romulus and Remus of Rome, suckled by the she-wolf Lupa and fed by a woodpecker until the shepherds found and raised them to adulthood. The irony is not lost on me. I've had a few years to ponder that irony since my father insulted Fenrir Greyback. Greyback saw to it my father was punished by making his child a monster."

Remus' eyes were haunted. Pain lived in his eyes, and it was something Severus knew well.

My parents tried everything to find a cure, but there was none. And now… Dumbledore swore to me that I could attend school like a normal person. Make friends. Live my life, but who… who wants to be friends with…"

Remus doubled over in pain, crying out.

He clutched Hermione's body to him as his body trembled in agony. Bones were popping, shifting, re-aligning. His teeth clacked together as they sharpened and tore out of his gums into fangs as a muzzle pushed outward. Foam flecked around his mouth as gray fur sprouted over his skin, and his eyes bled from green to wolfish yellow.

Remus screamed in pain, his voice twisting into whines and howls, and his arms and legs locked, snapped, re-lined, and reformed. A long tail formed from his spine, and dark grey hair sprouted along it, looking like a tuft. Claws grew out of his hands and feet as they twisted into paws.

Severus startled, flying to the nearby wardrobe, staring down at the transforming werewolf with a combination of horror and pity. The pain had to be excruciating, so unlike the spell that changed him into an eagle.

Remus whined, panting heavily as he lay on the bed, but even as he slowly gained his bearings, he slurped the phoenix beside him with his long tongue, apologetically licking her feathers helter-skelter. His tail weakly beat against the mattress.

Remus suddenly engulfed Hermione's head with his mouth, covering the phoenix's head as though to bite it off.

Severus dove off the wardrobe, talons out, determined to stop whatever the werewolf was going to do.

But the werewolf released her head, tongue lolling, tail beating against the mattress. Hermione, now half covered in werewolf drool, dripped.

Severus landed in a flurry of wing beats, slightly unsure what the proper reaction to this change of events was.

The werewolf stared at him with yellow eyes, but they were not maddened or wrathful. His tail beat upon the mattress with abandon, and he whuffed lowly. A long pink tongue emerged from his jaws and slurped Severus upside the face. Werewolves, without the lack of human stimuli, were perfectly inclined to saddle up into your personal space and give you a tongue bath. Who knew? Was that lonely looking boy, Remus Lupin, still in there somewhere?

Hermione took that moment to preen Severus' drooled on eagle-self, and Severus returned the favour. The pair of them attempted to preen their feathers back into order only to have Remus slurp them all over again. He bowed down on his forelegs and wagged his tail again.

Hermione tugged Lupin's tail.

Remus spun around and snapped at her playfully, bowing again.

Severus, seeing a certain tufted tail wagging in front of his face, snapped at it, tugging it and letting it go.

Remus spun around again, snapping, but Severus dodged, fanning his wings somewhat awkwardly.

Hermione hopped on his back.

Rumus spun around.

Hermione flew off. Severus hopped on, and Remus took off around the room carrying Severus like a pony at the race. Then, it was back to the snap and avoid game.

It went back and forth a few times before Lupin's jaws closed around Severus' back, pinning his wings to his body. Severus froze, torn between panic and the desire to struggle and go for the eyes.

Remus however carried Severus back over to the bed, hopped up on it, and deposited the disgruntled eagle onto the mattress and began to groom him back into disarray.

Hermione flew over and attempted to distract him, tugging on the werewolf's ears, tail, scruff, and even nailing him once on the nose, but the werewolf continued to groom his new friend until he was throughly moplike before releasing him. He then pulled Hermione to him with his mouth, deposited her down between his front legs, and proceeded to make her look just like Severus.

Hermione seemed to slump resignedly, which was, Severus admitted to himself, comical on a phoenix.

Job done, Remus flopped on his side, chest rising and falling as he rested peacefully.

Severus tilted his head. Not that he was an expert on werewolves, per se, but what he knew about them now was quite contradictory to what he thought he knew. The few things he had picked up from books in the library seemed pretty convinced that werewolves were mindless slavering beasts that lived to bite and infect others. While he had no doubt that Lupin would respond differently to a human than the way he did to a non human, none of the books had said anything about what happened when a werewolf was around non-humans.

As far as he was concerned, this Remus Lupin was an unfortunate and lonely boy who believed he could have no real friends that could also share his secret. Arguably, it was quite logical to think so. Most people would probably stop at werewolf and be doing far worse than social shunning. Hermione seemed to think that this boy was worth comforting in a time of need, and that was enough for Severus. She trusted Severus, after all, enough to share her rather significant phoenix secret with him and introduce him to her secret werewolf friend. She offered him knowledge and power, but asked for little in return. Wasn't that worth a little faith on his end?

Realising that he was, quite quickly, trusting more to this particular witch than what he had to Lily in all the years he had known her, he pondered what that meant for him—this having of more than one friend, different relationships between them, and yet being able to share their company simultaneously. Was this normal? Was it how friendships were supposed to be?

Remus snuffled him and gathered both Hermione and Severus to him, cuddling them towards his warm belly, and then curled his tail and head around them both with a contented sigh, guarding them like treasure.

Hermione snuggled up to him, tucking her head under her wing, and Severus laid his head across her back as his eyes closed and sleep dragged him under.

When Hermione and Severus arrived at the breakfast table with their hair looking like they had both lost the battle against static electricity, the Slytherin on their side of the table stared at them with wide and curious eyes.

"Long night," Hermione snapped, drinking her juice.

"You two need to stop falling asleep in the library," one of the other students recommended, passing down the biscuits and gravy.

Severus snorted, chewing on a piece of bacon as he stared towards Lily who was looking at he and Hermione with so much curiosity that it could have drowned a cat.

Merciful Merlin. What was he going to tell Lily?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dearest Daughter,

I was gladdened to see the photo of you with your new Master, and it fills me with pride to see the mark of your new station so proudly emblazoned upon your collar with both the mark of our House. Your mother had framed it, placing it upon the mantle in all its glory, and had told the elves to insure it is properly taken care of. The house-elves seem to approve of it, keeping it dusted every morning.

Have your classes been keeping you busy? I'm sure between them and the work you do with your Master, that there is much you have been doing and little time in which to do it. I cannot help but think, however, that your being buried in knowledge gaining tasks does nothing but make you happy.

Regulus tells me that my secret is out. Yes, I am harbouring a four legged menace by the name of Denebola whose star shines in celestial Leo. The furry menace roams the house like a Gryffindor rampant, rubbing his scent upon the vases and statuary like everything is his own. I fear you may have competition in the house for the chair you love so much in the library. Your mother has tried to be rid of him on multiple occasions, but he reappears inside after she leaves him outside. I think they have finally come to a begrudging peace, but only because she realises that the Kneazle is dealing with the gnomes in the garden with ruthless precision.

I thank you for asking about company for the Winter Break ahead of time, my chick, as it will probably take me that long to whittle down the defences of your mother about having company. Regulus, however, is ecstatic about getting to meet your friend. I am sure I can count on him to help in the persuading of your mother. Officially, I cannot say if your mother will approve of the invasion, however, unofficially, do tell your friend he is welcome to join us for the holidays during the break since he is confident that he will be staying at Hogwarts over the holidays if he will not be staying with us. I have received no word from your twin on if he desires the same for any of his friends. He is, as usual, communicative as always.

I have sent you cookie bars and a figgy pudding as per your mother's orders. She says you are to share the cookie bars as to not promote jealousy, however, the pudding can be devoured guilt free. Regulus adds that you should be very guilty. He was thinking that figgy pudding was meant for him the entire time it was baking.

I wish you the best, my chick. Give my best regards to your Master.

Your father,

Orion Black (his seal, the belt of Orion)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** As I was writing this, I was watching Practical Magic on TV where _Is This Real?_ by Lisa Hall is playing.

"And I know, yes I know, but is this real?"

Fate, as always, is a fickle Mistress, and much like Sam Beckett in Quantum Leap (as one of my beautiful readers hinted at,) Hermione is bound by Fate to change the world, not by huge actions, but by repairing things that should have gone right the first time, but somehow did not.

But, at the same time, Fate was not so unkind to her as to not give her something in return for being Her Instrument. What a young Hermione Granger wouldn't have given to have a devoted friend that could understand her back in her own 1991 long before hardship and Voldemort tied her together with Harry and Ron…

I will also admit that I had an emotional tearing writing part of this chapter. I'm such a sap! *tear*


	10. Lampreys All of Them

**Chapter 10: Lampreys… All of Them**

"You're staring at me, Master," Hermione said softly as she looked up from a pile of transfigured wolf figurines.

Minerva smiled as she brought over some tea and set it down beside her apprentice. "Time to take a break, Apprentice," she said with a warm grin. "If you can pry yourself away from the finite details of the wolf."

Hermione grinned. "I sorted the turn-ins for your first and second class, Master, and I filled out that oddball questionnaire sent from the Daily Prophet. I left it on your desk for you to burn… er check over."

Minerva huffed. "Burned more like, assuredly. The horribly claptrap that paper has been writing since Rita Skeeter charmed her way into their service. She stole one of my books before she left, did you know that?"

"Which book, Master?" Hermione asked.

Minerva sipped her tea. "_Animagus Form and Function_," she replied after a time. "It was an outdated copy, so I didn't make a big stink, but of all the books to steal."

"So she'll try and become an animagus, you think?" Hermione asked.

"Most likely," she said. "There is enough there to get her there if she is tenacious, and well… she was that in all my classes, but while she was great in Transfiguration, there was something always off about how she went about things. She was only as good as she needed to be."

Hermione tilted her head and nodded.

"Uninstructed animagus studies can take years to perfect, I fear. Even dedicated students can find it more hard than they think it will be. The idea, of course, is simple, but the execution is delicate. So many things can go wrong before they go right. I learned from my old Master. It took me about half a year to perfect my form under his guidance. I knew what I was to be within the first week. I saw it clearly. It took months, however, to make the full switch. Once you get it, though, it is yours forever. Effortless and freeing. There were a couple of students that self taught themselves when I was still a student. They were very passionate learners. It took them a few years, but they did make their changes, but to this day Duncan requires a wand to make the change, and Victoria required the wand to return. Gamon, the stubborn man, he turned himself into a bongo. The Ministry and St. Mungos tried hundreds of spells and treatments to turn him back, but he was trapped. What was really horrible is that we had offers from about 20 zoos across the world for him to be in their endangered species breeding program because someone leaked out pictures of him…and Muggles, well, they didn't know he was actually a wizard.

"My old Master said if they truly wanted to learn, they could have come to him, but they were stubborn. They wanted to do it on their own with no guidance, and sometimes the price is too high. Others make the mistake of not registering themselves, and end up in a world of suffering from the registry, none of which is worth the trouble."

"Why is it that you think learning from books makes it harder?" Hermione asked.

"A true animagus exudes a sort of calming influence on the would be animagus. If offers a type of guide that isn't with words or something you can truly teach. It's like…" Minerva stared off for a moment. "It's like a young bird learning to fly. The potential is all there, but just because you have the wings doesn't mean you can use them, right? The Master gives the student a bit of themselves to help them along and help them back. Like a road map or a safety net. That is why students studying to be animagus usually do so meditate and study with their Master. All of it helps."

"And without it, it can take years?" Hermione asked.

"Often more," Minerva said with a nod. "Not for lack of trying, mind you. It's not about dedication either or any amount of cleverness. It's about being exposed to the energy of a stable animagus to hasten the process. I try to explain this stuff to the third years, but they always focus on the part about becoming something else and then glaze over the part that says hard work and dedication."

Hermione sipped her tea. "Would you teach me, Master?" she asked.

Minerva smiled. "Curious are you?"

"Very," Hermione answered.

"Well, normally students don't learn about them until third year, but I hardly think are aren't ready for such things. If you wish to learn, I will teach," she said with a smile.

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Master."

Minerva passed a biscuit. "You are welcome, Hermione."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Potions class, as was expected, was its own little drama mill. Drama of the explosive kind. There was the "cauldron blowup" explosions, and there was the "House vs House" explosions.

Hermione shook her head. Friendly competition was one thing, but sometimes she just wanted the entire House rivalry to go away. It wasn't like anyone was truly only of their house and never shared traits with the others. Herself as the Gryffindor Slytherin, for example.

Slughorn, in an attempt to create a better environment, paired each House with another House. Sirius was paired with a shy girl from Slytherin, and he was turning on all the Black Family charm. Potter and Pettigrew were looking at Sirius like he had grown a second head, but her twin ignored them or didn't see them at all. He was busy, after all. Important socialisation was on the line.

Hermione facepalmed. Poor girl.

Hermione was teamed with James Potter, and a part of her fought down the impulse to set herself to flames out of spite.

Harry would appreciate it if she didn't murder his father before he was even born. She had to remember Harry. Sometimes, and it wasn't that she forgot Harry by any means, but the pangs when she missed her childhood friend were no longer the sharp stab of displacement when Hermione Granger clashed with Hermione Black.

Looking at James Potter, she saw Harry in many ways, and that was what made it so hard. Harry was a caring friend, and while he had his moments of self-righteousness as the Chosen One, he was not his father. He was her loyal friend, and she genuinely missed the messy haired wizard when her world calmed down to a dull roar or when she looked at James Potter and saw Harry's face staring back at her.

Severus, however, was sitting with Remus. Remus looked quite shy beside him, which caused Hermione to smile at the irony. The older Lupin and Snape had always had a veiled sort of formality about them, but Lupin had always known "what to say" in the face of Snape's rancor.

It was amusing, when she thought about. Circumstances had her calling the elder versions of her peers by their last name. Professor Snape. Professor Lupin. The both of them sitting together in potions class with Severus looking quite disturbed considering the last time he had seen Remus, the boy was in his skivvies and turned into a werewolf in front of him. Remus, on the other hand, looked even more disturbed that the Slytherin friend of his House-mate Lily was his lab partner. Lily at least smiled when doing potions. Severus… not so much.

The day's potion of study was the Herbicide Potion, and Slughorn read off the instructions to the class first, and the told each team to go fetch the proper ingredients.

James hauled out his cauldron and thumped it onto the desk and then leaned back in his chair. He said nothing, but he wasn't moving to help with the ingredients either.

Hermione shook her head and went to the storage shelves. Normally, Severus and herself split the list down the middle, but she knew she wasn't getting any help from her "partner" on this particular day.

She took the lionfish spines carefully out of the jar and placed them in her container, measured out some of the standard ingredient mixures, grabbed a tube of Horklump juice, and crinkled her nose but grabbed a jar of Flobberworm mucus.

Walking back to the shared desk, she sat down, arranging the ingredients. She counted out four lionfish spines and tossed them into her mortar, smashing them into a rough powder with her pestle. She measured out 2 scoops of standard ingredient mixture and tapped it into the mortar as well, crushing it as well. Scooping out 3 measures of the powder in her mortar, she spooned it into the simmering water. Eyeing James' cauldron, she waved her wand over the potion and set a timer for around 45 minutes and sat back to wait.

She cast her eye over to Severus, who was restraining himself from twitching as Remus was measuring in his three spoons of the crushed mixture into the cauldron. He paused just long enough after that Severus snapped, "Wand."

Remus looked sheepish and waved his wand over it as Severus flipped over the timer hourglass.

Hermione shook her head at Severus, flicking her head at him. She smirked at him. She knew, and she knew Severus knew that Remus wasn't a potions idiot, but Severus and Hermione had developed a rapport, method, and habitual order or "how things were done" and poor Remus was unaware and unpractised. It wasn't his fault, but Severus was making the poor werewolf second guess himself by the power of his facial expression alone.

"Play nice," Hermione mouthed to Severus, lifting an eyebrow.

Severus curled his lips but mouthed, "Fine."

Lily looked up shortly after Severus did as her partner flipped over the timer hourglass as well.

A cauldron rumbled and students hit the deck as potion bits went flying in all direction. When Hermione looked up from where she had hidden herself, Frank Longbottom was looking very sheepish from the back of the room. Well, at least she knew where Neville got his propensity to make potions explode. Frank's lab partner was covered in red goo, and she did not look remotely happy.

Slughorn walked over to help with clean-up.

"Did you have any open cuts, Ms. Stemwinder?" he asked with concern, checking her over. "Oh good. Good. The lionfish spines can be troublesome all on their own, but mixed… well it's best you not get any in your wounds. Carry on from the beginning, Mr. Longbottom."

The timer on the desk was trickling out, and Hermione eyed the cauldron just as it started to shift colour. Perfect.

"Two measures of horklump juice, if you would please, James," Hermione said softly. It was his turn to work on the potion.

"I don't cooperate with snakes," James said curtly, leaning back in his chair.

The potion was bubbling perfectly. Waiting too much longer and it was take finesse to recover. She glared at James, and measured in the quantity of Horklump juice and adjusted the flames.

"Ten seconds for the Flobberworm mucus, James," she said.

He turned his head away, not even looking.

Hermione gritted her teeth, measured out two blobs of mucus from the jar and added it to the cauldron.

She removed it from the heat, stirred carefully four times in a clockwise direction, and then waved her wand over it, watching the potion to a vibrant emerald green. She held up her hand to summon Slughorn from the front.

"Ahhh, Miss Black," Horace said with a smile. I see you've completed the potion. Very nice colour. Even texture. Distinctive scent. Excellent work. Five points to Slytherin and Gryffindor for being the first done with a viable potion. Please bottle it up and place it on my desk. I'm sure Professor Sprout will appreciate your hard work."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said with gritted teeth. James Potter had just mooched five points to his house for doing absolutely nothing.

"You could at least bottle the potion and take it to Slughorn's desk, James, seeing as you didn't do anything else," Hermione hissed.

"No, I don't think so," James said. "Servant's work, after all."

Snickering from further back in the room needed no visual to know who it was. Hermione clenched her teeth, fire flickered across her eyes, filling her grey irises with flames.

"Want me to take your potion up with ours, sis?" Sirius's voice asked as he approached. "The wondrous Lady Heather and I succeeded in our team effort." He winked towards his blushing lab partner.

"How can you even pretend to be polite to a snake?" James admonished him, winning a scathing glance from Sirius.

"If you haven't noticed, James," Sirius said darkly. "My sister just brewed your entire potion by herself while you twiddled your thumbs and reading comics covered by the wrong book cover."

James made a disgusted face. "What are you going to do? Tell him? Lose points for your own House?"

"I don't have to," Sirius said, opening his hand for Hermione's potion. He carried the completed potions to Slughorn's desk and returned to his lab seat.

Horace, having heard the entire altercation, stared at James from his teaching desk. "Mr. Potter," he said grimly. "Tonight you will be serving detention with me where you will join me for remedial potions and we shall discuss the meaning of teamwork."

James mumbled something.

"What was that, Mr. Potter?" Horace asked.

"I said, yes, Sir," James grunted.

Horace glared, but went back to grading some papers as people got up to carry their finished work to the front.

"Miss Black, would you mind staying a moment?" Horace said after he dismissed the class for the day. "I have something to give to your Master."

"Of course, Sir," Hermione answered.

Horace was scribbling on a small scroll, rolled it up, sealed it, and handed it to her. "There you go, Miss Black. Sorry to hold you over."

It's not a problem, Sir," she said with small smile.

Sirius was waiting for her by her desk. He leaned down and picked up her bookbag and nodded to her. "Sorry about that mess, sis," he said with a sigh. "I swear to you, he's not always like that."

"Just to snakes," Hermione said with a sigh.

Sirius shook his head. "I wish he'd get his head out of his arse, and I wish you could see he isn't always a prat."

Hermione took her turn to shake her head.

Sirius handed her her bookbag. "Ow!" he said suddenly, dropping her bag into her hands. He cradled his arm where a lionfish spine was sticking out of his harm. The surface was covered in a dark emerald green of the pesticide potion.

Sirius teetered, attempting to brace himself on the nearby desk, but slid forward into Hermione.

"Professor Slughorn!" Hermione yelled as her twin gave a low groan and slid to the floor.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sirius woke slowly with a groan, wincing as the overabundance of white assaulted his system.

"Don't move too suddenly," a male voice said. "Madam Pomfrey had to bind your arm to extract the venom, and she gave you a hefty dose of Antidote Against Uncommon Potions. The side effects are… nausea and vertigo."

Sirius grunted, trying to focus. Familiar dark black tresses were draped over his belly. He moved his hand to stroke his twin's hair.

"She's been at your side since you fell," the male voice said again.

Sirius tried to focus. "Wha…t… what got me?" He felt like his tongue was laying out in the desert sun.

"Lionfish spine, dipped in herbicide," came the reply. "The good news is that it wouldn't have killed you, but you may have wished it did. The pain from lionfish venom is… notoriously horrible."

Sirius tried to at least not see six of everything and felt quite accomplished when he saw only three of said things. He turned his head to the side and saw three swirling black haired masses. "Euugh," he said, feeling ill.

A bucket appeared in front of him, and Sirius gratefully and very embarrassingly hurled into it.

Footsteps approached from somewhere in a rapid cadence.

"Oh dear, Mr. Black," Pomfrey tutted. There was a rustling, a warm cloth cleaned his face, and the bucket was cleaned and placed nearby again. "Thank you, Mr. Snape for assisting him."

Sirius heard a grunt for a reply.

Hermione finally stirred and she looked up at him. "Canis," she murmured as she embraced his torso with her arms and smashed her face into his ribs.

Sirius, still whoozy, patted his twin soothingly. "Takes more than an angry fish spine to take me out, sis," he murmured.

"I'm going to take you out if you scare me like that again," Hermione muttered into his chest.

Sirius laughed, winced in pain, and stifled the impulse.

"Well, now that you are awake, I need to run some tests on you, Mr. Black. It is past visiting hours, Miss Black. I normally do not allow visitors here after hours, so now that you see that your brother is well, I must ask you to return in the morning and let your brother rest," Madam Pomfrey said sternly, but not so unkindly.

Hermione inhaled and nodded. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey, thank you."

She got up slowly, squeezing her brother's hand gently.

"Shoo!" Sirius groaned. "You're so smothering when you fret."

Hermione tched but smiled down at him.

Severus stood to join her, and the pair glided out of the hospital wing, their robes flickering in the air behind them.

Poppy pulled the privacy curtain over. "That's quite a sister you have there, Mr. Black," she said softly. "She refused to leave your side until you woke up."

"She has the tenacity of a lamprey," Sirius groaned, feeling slightly better but still seeing multiple Pomfreys. "I suppose it runs in the family."

Poppy smirked as she ran her wand over him. "Well stick those rows of teeth into this bed and stay here, Mr. Black. We'll make sure you're right as rain soon enough."

Sirius sighed softly. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy," she said kindly. "Your vitals are much improved from earlier, but no funny business. Sleep will do you some good."

Sirius nodded in acquiescence. "I will."

Poppy drew his covers up and patted them down. She walked away, pulling the curtains around his bed to give him privacy.

Sirius stared up at the ceiling. When he woke from his ordeal, it had been his twin and her House mate that had sat at his bedside vigil. His House mates, however, had been no where to be seen. It was that thought that stuck in his mind as sleep claimed him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Mother and Father,

Sirius was brought to the hospital wing due to a misplaced lionfish spine that was stuck to my bag during potions. He picked up my bag to carry it for me and was inadvertently stuck by it.

Madam Pomfrey assures me that he will make a full recovery, but I am sending this letter in the case word gets back to you and the stories are too grand to be believed. I know how much you hate inflated gossip.

Professor Slughorn has also assured me that he will report the incident to the Headmaster, and if there was a malicious culprit, punishment will be given to the one who did it. My Master wishes me to be more careful, for now, and not travel alone if I can help it. It was because I was not alone that Sirius was helped in time to prevent excessive pain or suffering. Part of me thinks this is a bit too much fuss, as I doubt there a plan to assassinate me at Hogwarts, but I will respect my Master's wishes.

My eyes are growing heavy, and I must sleep. My apologies for the late night owl, but I did not leave the hospital wing until I was sure my brother woke again.

My best to Regulus. Please do not let him worry.

Sincerely,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**A/N: **I don't really plan to have Sirius repudiate his mates, but he may temper his friendship with his male friends with a healthy dose of caution after this incident, yes? Maybe an obligatory throwing of them against a wall and reading of the riot act. Heh. Not sure how that is going to go, to be honest. My brain isn't done threatening my life over all the things I've totally avoided doing today! *eyedarts*

This chapter was quick because, for those of you who remember me from Looks, it's time for name that animagus.

For those of you dutifully following, do you think Lily should be brought in on the animagus idea? Become friends with Remus as well? Maybe not be an animagus but still be a supportive friend for him. Do you think she could keep that secret? Would she know well enough to keep it secret, or would her obliviousness to how serious it was to be caught get her in trouble? I have to wonder if it's really in Lily's personality to be an animagus or if it was all about timing that she never really got to know the Marauders until late (and long after the falling out with Severus.)

For those of you who think she should be an animagus, what do you think her form would be? Would be she like her patronus, the doe? Or is this Lily going to be someone different thanks to Hermione's influence and perhaps be something altogether different?

This is where you guys get to ring in and have a voice in the outcome. As usually, I can't guarantee what I see will be used, but if your suggestion comes with a good reason, who knows, you might get to see it, eventually!

Thank you all for the supportive reviews. They made my weekend after being a little depressed over the death of Leonard Nimoy. The man was my hero growing up, and I can't help but think the world is a lesser place without him in it.


	11. The Lie is Easier to Believe

**Chapter 11: The Lie is Easier to Believe**

"Sevvv,"Lily whined. "What were you two doing last night?

"Learning to fly," he said with a sniff.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You don't even have a broom of your own. What were you doing?"

"Keeping company with a werewolf,"Severus answered deadpan.

Lily put her hands on her hips. "Really, what were you doing?

Severus slid his eyes over his book and stared at her. "Crawling down a chimney to visit someone."

Lily sighed and flopped backwards onto the moss to stare up at the trees above her. "I don't know why I even bother to ask. You lie so well, it sounds like the truth."

Severus lifted an eyebrow, but stuffed his face back into the book he was reading.

"And you!" Lily pointed an accusatory finger at Hermione, who was also face first into a book. "I suppose you were also learning to fly, keeping company with a werewolf, and crawling down a chimney to visit someone?"

Hermione lowered her book to stare at Lily. "I already knew how to fly,"she answered, deadpan.

"Oooooooo! The both of you!" Lily said, exasperated. "Why don't you just tell me you were sneaking off to read the restricted section while I was off making shampoo and conditioner? Why such elaborate lies?"

"You wouldn't believe the truth,"Hermione answered, shrugging.

Lily sighed. "If anyone could sneak into the restricted section and have the audacity to fall asleep here and get away with it, it would be you two, I swear to Merlin," she huffed. "And for the record, I would believe you, you know. I'm your friend. You don't have to lie."

Hermione pulled out the wrapped bundle of bar cookies her father had sent, derailing Lily's train of thought with the ease of a Master.

Lily squealed happily, tearing into the cookies.

Hermione snatched two of them before Lily took off her arm, and passed one to Severus before biting into her own.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"What in bloody hell were you thinking, James?" Sirius practically screamed down his throat. The pair of them where about the same height for their age, so Sirius had to bounce onto his tippy toes to make the act seems appropriately wrathful.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you were going to help her carry her damn books!" he yelled back. "I just wanted to get back at her for being such a bleeding know-it-all. She just thumbs her nose at you. Bosses you around. Tells you how to do things!"

"Do you hear yourself?" Sirius snarled. "You might as well just table the all of us… well except Remus. Remus is too damn polite to boss anyone around. But LOOK at us, you insufferable git? We look down our noses just as well at anyone who doesn't think like us. We bloody boss people around. Look what we did the other day to get that pile of cookies out from under Frank and his friend Alice. We are NO better. No better at all."

"We're not SLYTHERIN!" James yelled back.

"What does that…."Sirius twitched. "What the fuck does that have to do with it?" Rage was leaking out his ears and his mouth at this point. The litmus test was always the profanity. The more enraged he got, the worse his command of the Queen's English became. "My bloody sister is the probably the most compassionate person on the planet when it comes to giving people chances. She forgives my mother for being… my mother, and she forgives me for being a blind bleeding idiot more often than I'm a good brother. She makes me ashamed of myself. Yes, she's bloody Slytherin. All of my bleeding family were Slytherin cept for my dysfunctional ass!"

"What are you trying to say, Sirius?" Peter pipped up. "You going to side with Slytherin because your baby sister looks up to your Slytherin parents?"

Remus, who was looking more and more pale and the yelling was getting louder, trailed behind them. "Guys, please. People are looking…"

Sirius gritted his teeth. "Look, what is your problem, mate? She has done nothing to you. Slytherin hasn't done nothing to us. NOTHING. They have dodged our pranks, ignored our taunts, and done nothing but take it to the face and walk away. Could we say the same if one of them decided to prank us back? Don't get me wrong. I love pranks. I live for pranks. I pranked my baby brother and my twin every day I could, but never, ever, did I think they wouldn't get me back at some point. I have the scars from when Regulus trapped me in a wardrobe with a bag of gnomes to prove it."

"Come on, Remus," Peter nudged him. "Let them work it out."

Remus threw up his hands and stormed off, tired of the ringing in his ears. It wasn't like he felt truly a part of the group, and most of the time he felt like an old dilapidated broom sitting with the latest racing brooms used by a professional team.

Lupin scratched his head and walked along the path down and around Black Lake. The trails around the lake were long and numerous, giving people so many places to walk and not meet anyone. Most people stuck to the main paths, however, and ended up running into lots of people. Unfortunately, that was the trail Sirius and James chose to have their row out in front of a group of bug-eyed Ravenclaw.

Remus went down one the less frequent trails indicated by heavy coat of leaves coating the hidden trail beneath. His nostrils flared slightly as he realised that there was a familiar scent in the air. Familiar. Comforting.

"Ahhhgh," a female voice scoffed. "I'm going to go meet with Professor Slughorn. You two are impossible!" The fiery red-head laughed, green eyes sparkling. "His party is coming up this weekend. I neeeeeeed a date, Sev. You will come with me, won't you?"

The black eyed wizard looked at her with what could only be described as panic. Social obligation and date came together in his eyes in a rush of adrenaline.

"Come on, Sev!"Lily pleaded. "You're a part of the club too, yea? So we can be each other's dates!"

The black-haired wizard turned his head away, breathing a little hard.

Lily put her hands on her hips. "Severus Snape, you will attend the Slug Club with me this Friday, or so help me, I will charm your beloved dragonhide boots to dance you to class!"

Severus muttered something noncommittal.

Lily took that as a positive, twirled on her heels, and stalked up the bath to Hogwarts, blowing by Remus with a flutter of wind.

Remus looked at the black-haired witch as she flung herself back into the moss, giggling hysterically. Severus stared down at her with disdain written all over his face.

"She herded you right into that Severus," the witch chuckled at him.

"You know as well as anyone how much I loathe social occasions, Hermione," Severus scowled down at her.

The grey eyed witch grinned at him unabashed as he continued to scowl. Her shoulder were quaking silently, and Remus could smell her amusement and his disgruntled resignation. He could smell them, however, strongly. It was familiar.

"Um… hi," Remus said. "Not sure if you remember me from class. I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

Hermione turned her head to look at him, rolling her head on the moss. "Hello, Remus."

"H…Hermione, right?" Remus asked shyly.

Hermione's eyes were warm. "That's me," she answered.

"May I join you two?" Remus asked.

Hermione gestured to the ground. "Lots of room."

Remus flopped to the ground, sitting cross legged. "Um… I…" Remus stared at his knees.

Hermione and Severus exchanged looks.

"Very articulate," Severus mouthed.

"Severus!" Hermione mouthed back silently.

Severus rolled his eyes.

Remus took in a breath, squared his shoulders, and looked up. "Iknowwehaven'ttalkedatall, butI'dreallyliketobeyourfriend." The words gushed out in a flood of nervousness.

Severus looked at him with a tightly controlled face. "One condition."

Remus wrung his hands nervously, biting his lip. "Anything." His eyes were haunted, nervous, desperate, and so much more more. At that moment, he would have done anything they required of him for the chance of having friends… real friends. Friends that could keep him company on the moon nights. Friends who could not only know his secret, but guard it. The green of his eyes flickered with a tinge of yellow. If he had been sporting a tail at that given moment, it would be beating against the ground madly. His inner wolf smelled his friends in this witch and wizard. It didn't matter that they were Slytherin. It didn't matter that he had hardly had more than two words spoken between them before this day, save what he confessed to mysterious phoenix and and equally enigmatic eagle. His wolf didn't care. For the first time in all the years he had endured the change, his wolf had friends, and would fight tooth and claw to keep them.

Hermione's grey eyes were warm. "We get to call you Tuft."

Remus was crying, he couldn't help it. Casting aside any preconceived notion of manliness, he had tears running down his nose. "Done."

Hermione had her hand out. A lone chocolate bar cookie was clenched between her delicate fingers.

Remus took it as though it were the only food he had been given all year, savouring it bite by bite to extend the happiness he felt as he devoured it.

Severus and Hermione watched him devour the cookie with amusement. They watched the disappointment cross his face as he realised the cookie was gone. His face was so forlorn that it was like looking at a kicked puppy.

Severus smirked, extending his hand.

Another cookie.

Remus looked ready to burst into tears again, took it with babbled thanks, and both cradled and nibbled on it little by little.

"Lily is going to have competition for the cookies, I fear," Hermione said dryly.

"What's life without a little competition?" Severus answered.

"How did you know? Remus whispered as he made the last of the second cookie disappear. "Does Dumbledore know? Did he send you?"

Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore… doesn't really make nice with Slytherins, to be honest."

"But… how then?"

Severus snorted. "Ever tried to tell a phoenix where not to go? They are more curious than cats."

Hermione turned a disturbing shade or crimson. "Leave me alone," she hissed.

Severus shook his head, black eyes sparkling with mischief. "Giant, winged, flaming cats."

"Shut it!"Hermione laughed, whapping Severus with her hands.

Severus smirked, allowing her to rage all over his school robes.

After she was done, she leaned against him. "Prat."

Remus tilted his head, already feeling a sort of warmth he had so longed to feel in a group. "Does your friend… Does Lily know?"

Severus looked up at him, brows furrowing. "No."

"Does she… change as well?" Remus asked.

Hermione shook her head.

"How did you both learn…" Remus' curiosity bubbled forth like a hidden spring.

Severus' corner of the mouth quirked upward. "I'm still learning."

"I'm technically still learning,"Hermione said with a tilt of her chin. "My Master is teaching me properly."

"It must be wonderful," Remus boggled. "To have control over a change… to not feel pain?"

"Maybe you could study to become an animagus," Severus said speculatively. "Nothing seems to say that your… moonlight condition restricts you from that during your human times."

Remus looked at him as if he'd just announced that all the oranges of the world were now purple. "Do you think I could… would it… that be so…" Remus's face filled with wonder and possibility.

Hermione had a very Slytherin look upon her face, and Severus looked at her as if he were reading her thoughts.

"Imagine, hypothetically," Hermione said. "Provided your parents haven't blabbed to the universe that you are a werewolf…"

Lupin shook his head in negative. "They didn't even tell my grandmother. They just locked me away three nights of the month, then nursed me back to health after saying I had a weak immune system…"

Hermione raised a brow, but continued. "What if, instead, you became an animagus. Say your form really is a wolf, much like your name seems to imply. Say you were registered as wolf animagus. If you were careful, certain people would never know the wiser, and I am betting you, most people from a distance couldn't tell the difference between a wolf and a werewolf until they were up close… and who really wants to be up close to a potential werewolf?"

"What if the pain and the rage a werewolf has is because they cannot transform any other time but during the full moon…" Severus speculated. "They only have three nights while forced to be in the background all the others."

"Do all Slytherin speculate like you do?" Remus asked. "You're kind of scary brilliant together."

Hermione laughed. Once upon a time, a friend had called her much the same. Brilliant, but scary.

"Professor Slughorn posted that extra credit project on the bulletin board outside of the Potions Lab," Hermione said.

"The winner has to make a potion that hasn't been made yet and present it to the Potion Mastery Board," Severus said.

"If the Board approves of it for mass production, the winner would have an all expense paid Mastership on or before graduation," Remus said. "I saw people looking at the announcement."

Hermione had a glint in her eyes. She placed her hand on Severus' arm. "Severus… how do you feel about being a Potion Master?"

Severus looked at her with wide eyes. "A Potions Master? Me? I always thought myself more… Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"I've been secretly teaching myself how to do a Patronus," Remus confessed suddenly. "I found a book on the shelf in the shack."

Severus and Hermione stared at him.

"I can only make vapour so far though," Remus said sadly, taking out his wand. He waved his wand and said, "Expecto Patronum." White and blue wisps of eldritch vapour shot out of his wand. "I guess my happy memory isn't happy enough."

Hermione looked at Remus. "One, you need to teach us that. Two," she stared at Severus, "I think you'd make an excellent Potions Master if you put your mind to it."

"But… what potion would we make?" Severus asked. "What could possibly impress the Potion Mastery Board?"

Hermione closed her eyes, remembering.

"_Pay attention, Ms. Granger," Snape said curtly, his black robes hung about his shoulders as his portrait self waved his wand and a complex formula wrote itself across a chalkboard in the back of his portrait. Hundreds of complex arithmancy equations connected to each point of the potion with complex instructions. "I was the only one in Hogwarts with the memory of this potion… and with my death… I was the last with this particular formula. Commit it to memory, Professor Granger. You are the only one… who I can trust with this formula. I had started to tweak the original formula and just managed to get it stable, but by the time I had it made… neither I nor Lupin were on speaking terms. Everyone else… would not have the patience to see it through. I know… I know that you will."_

_Hermione had looked into the face of the ex-Headmaster, Snape's impassive expression looked at her without emotion, but she could almost see a flicker of something hidden in his painted eyes. Respect._

"_Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione said softly, staring at the complex formula and all the equations, burning them into her grey matter._

"_Severus," the the portrait Snape said softly._

_Hermione met the portrait's eyes, unsure._

_The portrait Snape stared into her, impassive as ever, but he repeated, "Call me, Severus."_

"_Thank you, Severus,"she whispered softly, her fingers ever so lightly touching the frame of his portrait._

_Severus tilted his chin up, narrowing his eyes, and turned to leave his frame, but as he turned, she heard him reply, ever so softly, "You are welcome… Hermione."_

Hermione opened her eyes, a tear running down the side of her nose with the bittersweet memory. "Wolfsbane Potion," she whispered. "If we balance the proportions of aconite with the properties of the calming draught, it could calm the mind of the werewolf before they turn… they could keep their mind after the change. If we further add some of the properties of the Draught of Peace… it could add the balancing effect with the wolf, and calm them too. The duality must be balanced or the potion won't work. That has to be why all the previous attempts at it have failed or required odd dosing instructions. All the potions that people have tried, try to cure the man. They forget a werewolf is not just a man. It might take a week to brew each state but… the result…"

Remus exhaled heavily. "I wouldn't hurt anyone anymore. I'd be me. A wolf… but me."

"No, Remus," Hermione said. "Don't you see? You'd be at peace. You'd be you. Both the wolf and the human in harmony."

"Peace," Remus said wistfully.

"Peace,"Hermione and Severus said together.

"I'm in," Severus said extending his hand.

"You know I'm in," Hermione said, placing her hand on top of his.

"Whatever you need that I can provide, is yours," Remus said, placing his hand on theirs.

Hermione grinned. "Let's prove to them that a bunch of first years are more than just our allotted year. We should tell my Master and ask her for her blessing. I have a feeling she will approve and give us some wiggle room."

"Oh?" Severus asked. "How so?"

"She can write passes to the restricted section," Hermione said, wiggling her brows.

"Excellent," Severus purred.

"We should talk to Lily to get her in on it, but she'll want to know why," Hermione made a face as she said it. It was all about "I love her, but…"

"Tell her it's a welfare project," Severus said. "You're unhappy with how there hasn't been any advancement in the treatment of lycanthropy and Slughorn's project gave you a reason."

"Smooth, Severus," Hermione snerked.

"Years of justification practice," he replied, staring upward as if for guidance.

Hermione squared her shoulders. "Well, now that our term project is settled, I will ask my Master for her blessing so she can sent official word to Professor Slughorn. Now we can go back to the matter of Tuft here summoning a Patronus in front of us without sharing the knowledge!"

Hermione and Severus stared at Remus intently.

Remus' eyes went wide and he gulped. "I'll show you what I know!" he promised, pulling out his wand.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

My Dear Daughter,

I have been informed by your father that you wish to bring home company over the holiday. Seeing as how your progress reports from your Master have been exemplary, I and your father will allow it. You may tell your friend they are welcome to visit during the Christmas holiday.

Seeing as we must play the proper host, I request that you send a list of interests that we may be better prepared for proper the giving of gifts during the holiday. Our family shall not be accused of being ill prepared for our guests, daughter, and I will not start now.

I feel you should know, your little brother is currently infatuated with the idea that you will bringing a guest home, so you should prepare your friend for being assaulted by your younger brothers ceaseless enthusiasm. I can only hope that he does not shame us with his antics.

There is quite a bit of time before the holiday, so we have time to prepare. At least, thanks to your father's new friend, we have less gnome holes in the garden to shame the house of my fathers.

Please give your Master our regards.

Sincerely,

Walburga (seal of the House of Black)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Who's a werewolf's best friend? SLYTHERIN friends! Personally, I think Remus is truly in need some friends. True friends. It's not to say that eventually (canon wise anyway) that Remus wouldn't have friends in James and Sirius and (gag… Peter) but more if he had become friends with Hermione and Severus early on… who better to guard his secrets, but let's be honest, Slytherin protects what is "theirs" just as well. Using the contest to get Severus a Mastership sponsor? Very clever. Teaching Lupin how to be an animagus to deflect accusations that he could be a werewolf? Muahahaaa.

Yes, James is still a prat, but I don't see that improving for quite a few years, because even canonically, he was pretty much a self-righteous spoilt jerk until his seventh year. (Maybe I will speed that up because I don't know if I can write six years of that kind of horribleness…) Who knows?

As for me, I'm going to bed after I take my horrible quiz I've been avoiding all day.


	12. Slughorn's Dinner

"_I come to you defences down,_

_With the trust of a child." - Red Rain, Peter Gabriel_

**Chapter 12: Slughorn's Dinner**

Days passed into weeks, and the fledgling bond between the two wizards and two witches seemed only to deepen into something stronger than any of them realised. Many afternoons and late evenings before curfew, the four of them would be under the mossy tree, discussing their team assignments for the project for Slughorn.

The two distinctively Gryffindor sat across from the two Slytherin in the library, surrounded by books, tomes, and even a few scrolls. Hermione had arithmancy equations shorthanded in wand writing hovering in the air. Every so often someone would peak around the corner, and Severus put on the most disdainful expression he could muster on his face, scaring them away from their business before they could pick up anything to gossip about.

Hermione had a small inner smile on her face every time he did it and whispered to him "Thank you, Professor Snape." Severus would give her such an exasperated look in return until she smiled so warmly that he couldn't keep his controls up and ended up chuckling with her instead. It only served to warm Hermione a bit more, seeing this aspect to Severus that was young, vulnerable, and not quite so practised in acerbic arts and unmitigated rancour. This Severus had been caught from jumping off into the Abyss and still had his smile and laughter, peppered with hints of his older self's dry humour.

Sometimes Remus would get in a row with Severus about some sort of ingredient and Lily would agree with either one or the other. Remus would try to wrestle the disagreement back into friendly terms, but then Lily and Severus would end up growling potion balancing countermeasures at each other. Remus would attempt to placate, and then Madam Pince, whom Hermione swore was even more wrinkled and vulturish than ever she was in 1994, would come and rap knuckles and tell them to quiet down and not damage the books.

Remus would, somehow, placate Madam Pince to the point where she mumbled something neutrally and walked off, earning him the title "Remus, the Diplomat" whenever they needed him to run interference or butter up the politeness gears.

Minerva, while not an expert on potions, would look over the arithmancy equations, privately surprised that first years would even be into arithmancy at all. They put together a properties "desired" list and Minerva retrieved a list of ingredients from Professor Sprout that Hogwarts had on hand that could be used in place of those that would be harder to get their hands on. She made a list of certain ingredients could be safely and permanently transfigured from raw ingredients, and Lily took to balancing out the ingredient list between the proper fresh ingredients versus the transfigured and preserved kinds. Minerva seemed baffled and then amused that the two Houses were getting along in the project.

Hermione found herself suddenly more respectful of just how much the elder Professor Snape had squirrelled away in his private stores. How she missed that storeroom that had unofficially provided so much help during her Hogwarts career. She silently said a soft prayer of apology to the elder Snape in her memory.

As it turned out, Lily parted ways with the quartet every full moon night for her "shampoo and conditioner club" with the "girls" just like clockwork. She swore up and down that the conditions were best for brewing if they did it on full moons and they couldn't waste the opportunity.

Severus and Remus gave her incomprehensible looks while Hermione just pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, silently muttering things that made her sound eerily like a certain future Potion Master's portrait.

Thankful, however, for not having to ditch Lily on moon nights, the full moon trio found themselves in the Shrieking Shack together, awaiting the return of Tuft.

Sneakily, or as Remus called it, Slytherinly, both Hermione and Severus sneaked out during the full moons to be with Remus. They left decoys of themselves that both snored and were exceedingly hard to wake. Hermione didn't need one, thanks to having no dorm mates, but she put one up anyway. Severus put one up, but his reputation for not wanting to be bothered was already so well established, no one did. The pair snickered over it the entire way to the hide-away house.

Hermione, mistress of spells that she shouldn't know yet, taught Severus the art of disillusionment. It didn't take long for Severus to realise the infinite benefits of that particular spell, and unlike Harry with Occlumency, Severus was a quick and devoted study.

They used the time before Remus' change to meditate on their animagus forms together, and Severus and Remus' eyes had shot open at the same time.

"I saw myself," Severus whispered.

Remus nodded. "Me too… I really am a wolf!"

Hermione glared at Severus. "Share."

His black eyes sparkled with the knowledge of his form. He was grinning at her like a Cheshire cat.

"Share with me, Severus, or I swear I will change into a phoenix and sit in your lap while I'm on fire," Hermione seethed at him. There was fire in her eyes, but her expression was amused.

Severus smirked. "Bateleur eagle. I remember it from one of the raptor books. Black feathers, red face, brown back, white bands on the wings, bi-coloured hooked beak, and red feet."

"Oh wow," Hermione purred. "I'm so happy for you. You get to keep your wings! I can't wait to see the red feet!"

"How long do you think it will take to make the full shift?" Severus asked.

"It took me about half a year," Hermione answered. "Just like my Master with her Master. And you have the advantage that I did to be meditating with a full animagus."

"What if we didn't? Remus asked curiously.

"I could take years, Professor McGonagall said," Hermione explained.

"Years?" Remus said. "No wonder you don't see many people trying to do it. Can you imagine Frank Longbottom trying to concentrate long enough to meditate?"

Hermione chuckled.

Remus winced, and his friends looked at him with sympathy. "It's that time again," Remus said softly, standing to pull off his clothes and set them aside.

Hermione pointed her wand at Severus. He nodded to her in readiness, and she transfigured him into his eagle form.

Severus flapped his wings to stretch them and yawned beakily.

Hermione shifted, and Severus preened her head crest feathers. She returned the gesture, gently putting his feathers into order, even though she knew once Tuft arose for the evening, both of them would be drenched in werewolf drool and look like abused mop heads.

Remus groaned, and the pair of them fluttered up to be beside him, Hermione pressed herself into Remus' arms, allowing him to cling to her body as the change took him.

His convulsions took him as painfully as they always did, and Hermione's heart ached with pity. Despite his pain, and his firm embrace as he changed, he never once hurt her. He never crushed the life from her lungs, nor did he much other than drool on her as his body shifted against his will.

However, when Severus wedged himself under Remus' arm to cuddle next to her to divide and conquer Remus' clingy embrace. Hermione appreciated the familiar warmth of his body heat against hers and the combined scents of he and Remus as well as the emergent Tuft into the equation. Remus clung to them both tightly as his body changed, but it was a secure embrace, almost protective, and he did not injure them even as his boy changed against his will. It was, perhaps, both Remus and Tuft agreeing on what was most important to their lives and doing their best to keep them safe.

Minutes after, Tuft dutifully groomed his bird friends, bathing them in werewolf drool and setting their feathers into disarray, but the two birds clicked their beaks at his chin, nipping at him playfully rather than annoyance.

There werewolf lay his head down and stared at them, tail beating against the mattress in friendly greeting. Any worry that contact with the werewolf's infectious drool would inadvertently turn his two friends into fellow werewolves had long since past, as the two of them reminded their friend that every evening in his company was also spent with the Tuft the Drooly.

On this particular evening, Tuft didn't seem inclined to romp about. Instead, he snuggled into his favourite birds after picking them up in his mouth and moving them to the "right place" next to him and curled up to sleep, his tufted tail curling around his body to shelter his friends from the chill of the evening.

Severus yawned beakily into Hermione's face, and she returned the favour, starting up a yawn war that went back and forth for a few minutes before they finally shook the last of the impulses away. Hermione tucked her head under her wing, and Severus laid his head across Hermione's back as his eyes closed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Tuesday, November 2nd, 1971_

Severus woke up feeling comfortable. That in comparison to other times in this life, seemed a miracle unto itself. He took inventory of his senses and realised that he felt quite warm, safe, and relaxed. There were few times he could remember such things, and the only times he could involved his mother and an old quilt he vaguely recalled as being blue and smelling of mint.

Hermione stirred against him. Her head crest pressed into his chest, and she rubbed her beak against him, snuggling closer before letting out a deep sigh.

Severus froze, unsure what to do. It was a strange newness to him, yet it felt pleasant. He curved his neck around hers, gliding his beak against hers, and she snuggled into him, sharing her warmth.

Tuft whined in his sleep, his leg twitching as he dreamed of chasing possible wererabbits across the greens of Hogwarts. The werewolf's jaws were half open, and his tongue was sticking out the side of his mouth. He made a woofing sound, panted, worked his jaw, and salivated as his dream carried him wherever it was werewolves dreamed.

Tuft had a musky scent about him, his fur a combination of earth, almonds, and musk. It was stronger on Tuft than on the human Remus, but the pair shared a scent that was linked to the other.

Hermione, on the other hand, smelled of woodsmoke and autumn breezes that carried the dampness of leaves and earth. His eyes drifted closed as the groggy comfortable feeling lured him into that area between sleep and wakefulness. Hermione smelled like home. It was not the smell of Spinner's End, per se, but a combination of the scent of the wood-burning stove his mother would light on cold winter days at the house and something so very different. Yet, unlike those things back at Spinner's End he could so very easily leave behind, he found that was not what he wished for Hermione.

Her scent, combined with Tuft's, was like a calming draught. He felt at peace, and it seemed like the years he had felt peace was for fools who didn't know what real life was were past him. Mixed within all of their scents was the now distinctive, yet strangely not so unpleasant, scent of werewolf drool whose closest descriptive of scent was of freshly mowed grass. Who knew? It was very doubtful that anyone went sticking their face into a werewolf's mouth to check their breath. Comical, perhaps in its mental image, but not very likely.

It was a good thing the drool wasn't contagious to them, or Tuft would have a true pack under the moon on his moon days.

He pondered Lily's scent, his thoughts having wandered to her as it usually did. There had been a time, not so long ago, when she was the only one he thought of with anything resembling hope. Lily's scent had always been of that Muggle skin cream that she was so wont to use. Her shampoo had the traces of coconut and verbena. He frowned mentally, unable to bring up what she smelled like under all the skin care and hair products. Part of him questioned why he would care what she really smelled like under it as long as she didn't smell like a rubbish bin.

Tuft and Hermione's scents though, he recalled without effort, and he had no doubt that even when they weren't lying in a pile together like some strange conglomeration that he'd remember them still.

Hermione stirred against him, yawning beakily. Her pale grey eyes shimmered like dewdrops on a leaf after the rain. She looked at him drowsily, running her head against the bottom of his chin as she fluttered her wings and stretched out her legs. The crest of feathers on the top of her head raised lopsidedly into the air thanks to the mild coating of werewolf drool. She preened his head with her beak dutifully, setting his poor feathers into order.

Hermione chirped softly. She talon walked over to the nearby quilt and tugged on it with her beak, starting to drag it over Tuft so he wouldn't wake up cold.

Severus grabbed the edge and helped her pull until the werewolf snoozed away under the quilt peacefully.

Hermione rubbed her cheek against Tuft's muzzle and fluttered out of the room. Severus followed her into the next room, watching her tail feathers disappear up the chimney. He smirked mentally, hopping into the fireplace and fluttering upwards until he joined her on the roof of the house.

Hermione had her wings fanned outward, catching the early morning rays of the sun like a Muggle solar panel. Severus looked at her curiously and mirrored her actions, immediately understanding why she did so as the warmth from the sun felt immediately better on his back and through his wings.

The stood there together, sunning like vultures and enjoying each others silent company.

Hermione perked suddenly, freezing in place, and Severus followed her gaze to see Madam Pomfrey approaching in the distance, their binocular vision homing in on her shape nearing the Whomping Willow with ease.

She took to the air, banking off towards Black Lake, and Severus followed, enjoying the rush of wind under his wings. The thermals were weak in the morning, but his strong wing beats were more than adequate to assist him in following her.

Hermione let out a song as she glided over the lake, and the notes filled his chest with the feeling of joyous abandon. In that moment, he knew exactly how she felt. Her song shared her rapture of the air, her command of the skies, and her gladness to share it with someone else.

There was a loud hoot, and Sagacity joined them. His great wings matched their synchronous flying, forming a flock in the sky as they had formed a pack down below not so long before. Hermione let out a warble of joy, tumbling in the air in barrel rolls, and Severus let out an eagle scream, following her. Somewhere, deep inside himself, his animagus eagle stirred, finding resonance in the air as they flew together. He gave a joyous cry as he barrel rolled after her, chasing her over the surface of Black Lake with Sagacity.

Hermione met him high in the air, and their talons intertwined together, the three of them spun in the air together like sky divers, wings unfurled as their bodies glided downward at breakneck speed towards the lake. Then, as the surface approached, they parted, banking hard, Hermione gave a burst of musical song, Sagacity hooted, and Severus gave a long eagle scream of defiance to the ground.

When they landed on the ramparts of Hogwarts, Hermione took on her human shape, her apprentice robes flowing down her shoulders like a drapery. She had her arms up in a smooth movement, and Sagacity landed on her arm as Severus landed on the other with an eagle chirp.

Hermione's grey eyes met Severus' back ones, as she gently stroked his chest feathers. "Ready?"

Severus leapt from her arm and she cast her counterspell. Severus took the place of the eagle, and he had a smile on his face. "One day," he promised. "I will be able to do that without assistance."

Hermione's smile was broad across her face before she met his eyes with so much warmth that it could have kept him warm for a month of cold nights. "I look forward to it."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Friday, November 5th, 1971_

Lily was oogling and she couldn't help herself. The tall, aristocratic young man with finely chiselled cheek bones and hair so light it could have been silver had her attention.

When Hermione came in with her hand lightly resting upon his arm, Lily just stared at the pair.

"Who is that, Sev?" Lily whispered as they stood around the large table Slughorn had set out for their meal.

Severus arched a brow. "That is Lucius Malfoy. He's the fifth year prefect for Slytherin."

"He looks like an elf from my storybooks," Lily whispered.

Severus' head snapped up. "Don't let him hear that. House-elves are… not very respected."

"House elves?"

"They are caretakers of old Wizarding family homes," Severus said. "They do not look like the elves from your old picture books."

Lily frowned, disappointed. "I didn't know Hermione was dating."

Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "They are not," he said.

"Rubbish, Severus," Lily said. "He's even pulling out chairs for her."

"Pure-blood manners," Severus explained with a huff. "Totally different."

Lily shook her head, not understanding.

Severus sighed, running his hand through his hair, which was still, much to Lily's chagrin, suffering from the botched conditioner and shampoo accident from a month previous. "Look at Pure-bloods as aristocracy, Lily. There are some things they must do in public that are considered proper behaviour. They cannot help it."

"So, what, like curtsying to the Queen?" Lily asked.

Severus nodded. "Somewhat. They are both Pure-blood families. They are obligated to make nice in public."

"But," Lily protested. "Hermione doesn't make us bow or anything."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

Lily nudged him. "Explain… please!"

Severus wondered how he had become the expert on Pure-blood manners. "She's our friend. She wouldn't because we're usually alone, and we're not showing up in public. I guarantee you, if we were to accompany her out in public, we would have to carry some manners with us."

Lily shook her head. She was having trouble reconciling the Hermione that was her friend, with the distant and quite aloof witch beside Lucius. Hermione kept her eyes down to Lucius when he spoke, keeping her hand lightly looped around his arm, and every so often Lucius would reach over and touch her arm in seeming reassurance. It was all very formal and proper and completely mind boggling.

"Why would we have to act any different?" Lily asked. "She says we are her friends, right?"

"Would you wear shorts and t-shirt to church, Lily?" Severus snapped, impatient. "It's the same idea."

Lily quieted. He was frustrated with her. It wasn't her fault she didn't understand how she suddenly had to change her mannerisms at a club meeting to someone whom she had, until this point, though was just like any other girl at Hogwarts.

"Ah, Lucius," Horace said cheerfully. "I presume you are already acquainted with Severus Snape, a very talented potioneer in the making. This, however, is Lily Evans. She has quite a knack for potions and charms."

Lucius nodded curtly to Severus, which Severus returned immediately. Lucius' grey eyes stared down his finely chiselled features. He flicked his gaze upon her like he was evaluating her. Then, he tilted his head just so, inclining his head. Lucius seemed to be waiting for something from Lily, and she looked at him with a mixture of awe and incomprehension.

Hermione mouthed something to her. What was she saying?

Hermione jerked her head at Lily, and Lily was getting frustrated, having no idea what Hermione was trying to communicate.

"What?" she said aloud.

Severus closed his eyes. Hermione's lip twitched, and Lucius seemed to realise what he was waiting for was not going to happen.

Lucius extended his hand, palm up.

Lily stared at it dumbly and then the light bulb went off in her head. She placed her hand in it.

Lucius slowly brought her hand up as he sank into a slow bow, kissing the air above her hand. "A pleasure," he rumbled. He straightened, releasing her hand. His cold grey eyes had no smile about them. They were formal, guarded, and while not unkind, they did not welcome, invite, or even entertain.

"I believe you two are already acquainted with Miss Black," Slughorn said. "Minerva McGonagall's young Apprentice?"

Hermione, who said nothing, inclined her head in a nod. After a moment she extended her hand to Severus.

Severus, who had never demonstrated such formal manners to or even around Lily before, took Hermione's hand, bowed, and slowly and deliberately placed his lips to the back of her hand. Lily frowned. Where had he picked up some formal graces? Was it a Slytherin thing?

Hermione, responding to his gesture, slowly sank into a curtsy, smiling politely.

Lucius, however, seemed to approve of this action on Severus' part and seemed equally approving of Hermione's response.

Hermione turned and inclined her head courteously towards Lily.

Lily found herself being stared at by Lucius, who seemed to be evaluating her.

"Come, come," Horace said. "We shall let these two mingle properly. I have some others I wish you to meet, Lucius. We have a number of guests here tonight that are new."

"Thank you, Professor Slughorn," Lucius said politely. "It would be a pleasure."

Slughorn seems very pleased and guided Lucius and Hermione away.

"Where did you learn all that formal greeting stuff, Sev?" Lily asked after the others left.

Severus shrugged his shoulders. "I'm Slytherin. They practically give you the crash course the first week you're Sorted."

Lily shook her head. "I'm glad we don't worry about that sort of thing in Gryffindor."

Severus tilted his head, his eyes flicking with some sort of emotion.

"What?" Lily asked.

"It's nothing," Severus said softly.

"No really, what?" Lily insisted.

"The formalities are important, Lily," Severus said softly. "They may not make sense to you because you think that sort of thing is only for the Royal Court or whatever, but there are important people in the Wizarding world too. Like it or not, you must pay attention to such things or you will offend the wrong people. They should be teaching you these things even as a Gryffindor. It's no wonder there are misunderstandings between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

Lily shook her head. "It's not like Hermione wouldn't forgive me for not bowing, Sev. Anyone who was your friend shouldn't care if they get a bow."

Severus squared his shoulders. "You may not realise it or thought it wasn't important to acknowledge Hermione in public with a little deference," he said, "but rest assured, Lucius was. It is his role, both as prefect and as ally to the House of Black, to be her forward guard in public if they are in the same place. He will always pay attention to who respects and offends her. Perhaps more so than he pays attention to who respects and offends him…"

"It's so complicated, Sev," Lily complained.

"It is life," Severus said.

"Not my life, Sev," Lily said. "Besides, Sirius is also a Black and he never does anything like that."

Severus' lip twitched. "He's hardly a prime example of formal manners."

"That's rude, Severus," Lily snapped.

"It's the truth," Severus growled.

Lily sighed and turned her head away, choosing to focus on the upcoming meal.

Severus was silent. She had expected him to appeal to her like he usually did when she snubbed him like a cat turning their head against their owner for committing some crime against cats, but he did not. Instead, his face was strangely impassive and his dark eyes were unreadable.

It was odd, this new Severus. He no longer latched onto her like she was the very air he needed to breathe, catering to her whims if only to share her company. She found she missed her old childhood friend that she shared with no one. She missed that she could always count on him to be there waiting for her even if she made other plans and came late.

She knew she should be happy for this change towards independence. She, after all, had her own friends in Gryffindor that she did not share with Severus or Hermione. She jealously guarded them, keeping them separate from each other but connected to her because it made her feel more in control and independent in her own life.

She frowned. Was it selfish of her to want her own friends? Now that she was away from home and her sister Petunia's constant calling of her a freak, she felt she wasn't a freak anymore. She could have and make her own friends. She could choose which ones to hang out with… and it wasn't just Severus anymore. It would be logical to assume that Severus, like her, would find friends outside her as well. Why did it bother her then? She huffed at herself.

Her musing were interrupted by Slughorn ushering all of his guests back to the table and clapping his hands together. "Dinner, everyone! Please take your seats. I have a wonderful meal for us this evening. Please, enjoy yourselves!"

As the food appeared on the table, Lily Evans forgot all about her previous thoughts and went directly for the delicious looking roast duck that was taunting her from the serving tray.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"What is this?" Remus asked with wonder at the box Hermione and Severus handed to him.

"Open it and find out," Severus grunted. "You do have hands, after all."

Remus grinned at him, ignoring his snark and lifting the lid of the box. "Is this… oh wow… food from the dinner? It smells divine!"

"I put a warming charm on it so it didn't get cold," Hermione said. "Severus made you a fork."

Remus grinned from ear to ear. "It looks like… oh is this duck? And stew? Oh… heavens… chocolate cheesecake. I'm in love. Will you marry me?"

"It's food, not an engagement ring, Tufts," Severus snapped. "Don't put your wagon in front of the horse."

Remus grinned. "I'll marry you both. That way it will be fair."

Severus facepalmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's a good thing you're eleven, so I don't have to take you seriously."

Hermione, who was standing there with her eyebrow twitching, shook her head.

"I'll admit, I was jealous that all of you got to run off to this posh party of Slughorn's," Remus said, closing the lid of the box and hugging it to him. "I never thought you'd bring me a carry-out box."

Severus smirked. "Hermione was utterly charming to Slughorn. There was plenty of food to spare. Believe me."

Remus just seemed happy that he had friends that cared enough to bring him wondrous food for any reason. If he had a tail at that moment, it would have been wagging like a helicopter blade.

Hermione yawned. "Curfew is soon, Remus," she said. "Better sneak back to your dorm and eat that before someone realises you have epic spoils."

Remus grinned, grabbed the two Slytherin by the shoulders and gave them a hug, then scampered down the hall, dinner in tow.

"What just happened?" Severus asked blankly.

"We were just glomped by a werewolf," Hermione said, deadpan.

"Is that even a word?" Severus asked.

"It is now," Hermione replied without flinching.

"Well," Severus tutted. "Now that we have been properly assaulted by a happy werewolf, I think we should go to bed before Lucius finds us out on patrol and takes points from his own House. Then we'd have to deal with a cranky Malfoy for the rest of the week."

Hermione pressed her back of the hand to her forehead. "Woe!"

Severus smirked and gestured with his head for her to get a move on.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned on her heels to head in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room, Severus close behind.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dearest Regulus,

Tonight was our first meeting of what has been affectionately called "The Slug Club." Lucius Malfoy was kind enough to be my escort, forward guard, and all of those things that Mother believes utterly proper, but I think you'd have just enjoyed watching him make sure no one insulted my honour all evening! Oh, you should have seen his face when one of the dinner guests didn't acknowledge my head bow. I think he was about to pull out his wand and challenge her to a wizard duel. I was laughing on the inside, but I had to keep a straight face the entire time. Oh, Regulus, you would have laughed at me. The last thing I want is the young Lord Lucius Malfoy to be dueling witches and wizards in my honour before I complete my first year at Hogwarts. What would father think? Scratch that, what would MOTHER think? We both know father would laugh over it and ask for details on what hexes were used.

I met a swarm of new people—all of them contacts from Professor Slughorn's previous students and current ones. He seems to have quite the contact network of people in the most influential of places. He knows people in high profile places like sport teams, newspapers, magazines, political offices, and countless other occupations. He has his shelf in his quarter with photos of those he considers exceptional in some way or another, but to be honest, I have no idea what makes the cut or not.

I've made a new friend named Remus at the school. He's really shy usually, but Severus has coaxed a bit of cheekiness and mischief out of him. I can't want for you to meet Severus this holiday coming up. I think you two will get along famously. He's wicked brilliant, and he's a genius at potions and charms. He made up a charm the other day that causes static cling. He used it on Remus and the boy ran around the school with a sock on his robes and didn't realise it until half the day was past. You have no idea how much I was laughing before I was assaulted with tickle torture for my impudence. He thought I did it! The git! Oh, Regulus… you really will love him. I have no doubt at all.

I heard from mother that some idiot tried to punch you the other day. I have no idea why anyone would punch you, and I do hope it wasn't because you pranked someone in a horribly embarrassing manner. I am, however, glad to know that you didn't rise to the bait and turn him into a goldfish over it. You thought I forgot about that incident, hrm? No, dear brother, I will never forget that story. Neither will Mr. Blanderfold's son, I suppose.

Well, I am exhausted, and Sagacity is itching to bring this to you, so I will allow him to so I can sleep. I am, if you haven't already figured this out before you even read my letter (yes, I'm looking at YOU, brother,) sending a little something from the dinner's dessert tray. I hope you like it!

All my love, your sister,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** I did not intend to make Lily specifically into a selfish sort of friend, but rather, a young witch who has, until this point, grown up with only one magical friend. She finds herself with more than one, and thanks to her relationship with Petunia, wants to horde them, but like most kids, wants to keep what she values to herself. Selflessness at that age is a work in progress. Part of her realises that Severus is entitled to having his own opinion and his own friends (after all, she has her own opinion and her own friends.) Part of her, however, thrived on that devoted little boy that worshipped the ground she walked on, and I think it will be hard for her to let go of that. Who wants to fall to earth after being practically a Goddess, after all?

I think it will be natural, in the long run, for Severus and Lily to grow apart. This is not to say they cannot remain friends and hopefully avoid that entire Mudblood name flinging incident… (perhaps with a little help from Hermione.)

I can't keep my eyes open. Apologies for typos. Time to put myself to bed.


	13. 2009 Searching For Answers

**A/N: **Just a note that time ripples are going to be in flux for a while. What Harry sees may or not be the end result because Hermione Ankaa Black isn't done growing up sticking her beak into what she needs to stick it into.

**Chapter 13: 2009 - Searching for Answers - Gaining More Questions**

**19th of June, 2009 **

Harry hadn't been sure what to write on his owl to Headmistress McGonagall. "Have you seen Hermione?" seemed too randomly forward. "Anything strange happen since last night?" was too suspicious and made him sound like he'd done something in a drunken fit and wanted to know if he broke something or painted a statuary pink over the night. Well, to be fair, he had been drunk, but the only thing painted was the Black Family Tree… in Hermione's blood. Twenty nine years old and still can't figure out what to say to Professor McGonagall. Way to go Harry. Where was all that Gryffindor courage and hardened experience as an Auror?

Harry shook her head. Apparently it was sleeping under a rock somewhere.

Surprisingly, the gate to Hogwarts swung open for him, and he was glad his letter had not caused the gates to be sealed to him instead. The path to Hogwarts was smooth and well kept, but he hadn't expected otherwise. Smoke was rising in welcome from Hagrid's hut, and Harry felt a bit of relief at the familiar sight. Part of him was still in denial. All of his frantic owls to Hermione, despite Kreacher's reassurance that Hermione was well, came back to him. He fully expected as he walked into Hogwarts to be met by his friend with a grin on her face and a shake of her head.

"Harry, Harry," she would say. "I told you not to drink so much last night. You know how you get."

Maybe he should go to visit Hagrid first. The old half-giant was always good for those moments when the mind needed settling. Merlin knew his mind needed a whole lot of settling. His brain was fuzzy, but he doubted it was just his hangover from the night before.

Harry let his feet carry him automatically to Hagrid's hut. Memories of staying with the half-giant were strong. So many things had depended on Hagrid. His safety as a baby, for one, and his constant, steady friendship throughout his school days. As much as he had looked up to Dumbledore, it had been Hagrid that had tried to be there for Harry in a nurturing capacity, and Harry did have a soft spot for him.

Fang was waiting for him in the garden. He woofed, tail wagging as he saw him, and began to bound towards him as always. The old boarhound was starting to be a bit slow on the uptake thanks to his increased age, but that didn't stop him from living life to the fullest. Much like witches and wizards, his life seemed extended beyond that of a typical Muggle dog of the same breed. It was a relief, honestly, as Harry valued many of the things that had become intrinsic to his childhood at Hogwarts.

Harry pet Fang vigorously, smiling as the old dog slobbered and licked his hands. His tail beat into him like a log hitting him on the leg, and Harry still felt like he was going to topple as he did it.

"'Arry!" Hagrid greeted from the door of his hut. He was carrying a large container of slug repellent.

"Slugs after your pumpkins again, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"When aren't they, 'arry," Hagrid huffed, stroking his beard with one hand. "I'd be pretty amazed the day they don't swarm on the patch." Harry hugged Hagrid around the waist, and the half-giant patted his back heartily. "S'good to see ya, 'arry. How's the Auror business?"

"Same old same, Hagrid," Harry said warmly. Harry decided to take the plunge. The worst Hagrid could do is look at him like he was utterly barmy. "Have you seen Hermione, Hagrid?"

Hagrid stroked his beard. "Not since breakfast. You know old 'ermione. Always busy. Herding students. Keeping them from transfiguring themselves into pudding or the like. Students are always trying to pull the wool over 'er eyes, but it never works. Year after year. Hasn't worked in all the years she's been teaching. Not sure why they think they'll get away with it this year."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. So Hermione was here at Hogwarts. Maybe things weren't as off as his mind was telling him.

"I'm going to be working this 'ere patch for a while, 'arry, but if you like, we can meet up for lunch in a few hours?" Hagrid said as he sprayed the pumpkins with his concoction.

"Sure, Hagrid, that'd be great," Harry answered.

"She's probably 'anging around the Staff Lounge," Hagrid said with a nod. "It's about time for tea and some light reading for her."

Harry grinned, imagining Hermione with some gargantuan tome of some obscure topic draped across her lap as she sipped tea. Yeah, that was Hermione alright.

Hagrid went back to tending his pumpkin vines, and Harry scampered up the path back to Hogwarts, feeling a little more at ease that Hermione was still teaching at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure why his owls came back to him, but he was convinced it was all some wild misunderstanding and crossed wires in his own brain.

The location of the Staff Lounge was a mixed memory for Harry. The only time he had been there had been when Professor Lupin had taught the DADA class on boggarts in his third year. They hadn't been allowed in there since then, as students, so he tended not to think of it. He didn't teach, after all, so it wasn't like he ever needed to use the Staff Lounge.

After wandering the corridors like a lost duckling for a few minutes thanks to Hogwarts messing with the passageways on him, he found his way to the Staff Lounge, and tentatively opened the door, slipping inside. He felt like a miscreant intent on mischief sneaking into the Staff Lounge of all places.

Hermione's bell-like laughter alerted him to where she was on the far side of the lounge. He immediately felt a sense of relief that her familiar presence was here. She was, as Kreacher had said, alive and safe. He boggled, however, at the sight before him, freezing in place in complete shock.

"The Board of Governors is filled with utter slack-jawed morons," Lucius Malfoy said with a sniff. "I told them that sponsoring that program was the best way to bring extra lessons and better extracurricular funding to the school, and they all stared at me like I was recommending hiring a dragon to teach first years."

Hermione sipped her tea, laughing in between sips. "Sit down, Lucius," she said. "You're wearing a hole into the rug, and I'm quite fond of that particular rug."

The blond elder Malfoy shook his head and sat down in the comfy armchair, resting his walking cane against his leg. "How can you sit there and chuckle? You know that funding would provide a way to hire in a new teacher for the application of arithmancy and ancient runes in practical enchantments. Don't tell me you don't."

"Give it a rest, Lucius," Severus droned lazily. "You know she supports the entire proposal. As do we all. We, however, cannot force the hand of the Board."

Lucius twisted his face into the closest thing to a pout as his aristocratic features allowed. "You should all come speak at the next meeting," he grumbled.

"Oh no," Remus said. "The last time you had us speak in front of the Board, the meeting took fifteen hours, and I swear I gained half a head of grey hair just from that meeting alone."

"Psh," Lucius tutted. "You said you got the grey hair from having to hold Narcissa's hand during labour while I was stuck in that horrible court hearing in front of the Wizengamot."

Hermione smirked, her grey eyes were sparkling. "You arrived just in time to see the baby born, Lucius. You couldn't have planned it better."

Lucius fanned his hands and waved them appealingly. "I did not plan a court testimony just so I could nearly miss my son being born."

"Hnn," Hermione said dubiously. "I lack sufficient evidence to the contrary."

"My Lady," Lucius sniffed. "You doubt me?"

"No, My Lord Malfoy," Hermione answered with a complementary sniff. "I doubt circumstances."

"Stop it," Remus said with a laugh, rubbing Hermione on the shoulders. "Don't get all pure-blood on us."

Lucius and Hermione smirked at each other.

Hermione shook her head and slumped back against Severus, her black and green teaching robes merging with his in a cloth cascade. She turned the page in her book and continued to read.

Remus leaned over and stared at the book and then flipped the page.

Hermione glared at him. "Get your own book to read, Remus!"

"It's so much more fun to read yours!" the werewolf replied.

"Psh," Severus grunted. "Don't you have a class to teach, Lupin?"

"Don't you?" Remus retorted.

"Agh!" Hermione explained, slamming her book shut and setting it on the coffee table. She put her arms around Severus and Remus and pulled them both together with her into a hug. She laughed warmly, and it was a genuine sort of laugh.

"I think I'm jealous," Lucius said after a moment.

"Don't you start, Lucius Malfoy," Hermione huffed, muttering into Severus' hair. "You are a happily married man."

Lucius stroked the top of his walking cane, a sad expression on his face. "Arranged marriage, my Lady," he said softly.

"You do love her, Lucius," Hermione replied gently. "You love your son and your grandson. I see it in your eyes."

Lucius nodded somewhat grimly. "Love came after a time. She is a devoted mother and grandmother. She does what is fit and proper as is expected of a Malfoy, but sometimes I think she would have been happier wearing another man's name—following love instead of propriety."

"My mother is rolling over in her grave, Lucius, at the very thought," Hermione said with an understanding expression on her face.

"And your father?" Lucius asked.

"My father…" Hermione looked upward, a tremble on her lips. "My father would say," she said, squaring her shoulders, pausing with a twinge of pain on her face. "He would say, 'My young chick, you must fly across the heavens and blaze your own path. Let no sun or planet dictate your path, for you are a Black and a the celestial phoenix. None may force your hand, lest they be burned.'" Hermione pressed her lips together, her voice trembling. Tears trickled down her face, unbidden, as her voice trembled with the remembrance of her father. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears rimming her eyes. A haggard breath came from her throat, and she was immediately engulfed in a hug from both Severus and Remus.

Lucius knelt at her feet and took her hands in his. "I am sorry, Hermione. I did not mean to…"

Hermione shook her head. "No… it's not you. I just… I miss him so much. I remember when… he would cart me around on his shoulders in front of mother, and oh how she would look around to make sure no one was watching. He would read us stories by the fireplace… Regulus and I. He would rescue us from the wardrobe after mother would go one of her yelling fits over Sirius. He would take us to the beach in summer… and make us sand castles with magical dragons and knights… and the dragons would always win." Hermione looked upward, sniffling.

"He was a glorious man," Lucius said softly, gripping her hands, stroking them gently. "He was powerful, but compassionate. He loved you more than life. He made me swear to watch over you that one summer. Come what may. He would haunt me, otherwise."

Hermione laughed in between her tears. "You've never stopped looking out for me, Lucius," she said tenderly. "Are you telling me my father is to blame for such devotion?"

Lucius touched her cheek, brushing away her tears. "Gladly, I promised him, Hermione."

Hermione sniffled, wiping her face with her hand. "You defied a Dark Lord for me," she said wistfully.

Lucius pressed his lips to forehead. "I had a promise to keep, my Lady, and a Malfoy never goes back on his word."

Hermione looked upward. "When Father passed, it was all so very sudden. One week he was healthy, vibrant, and powerful, and the next he could hardly walk. He seemed to know he didn't have much time left… but he wasn't worried. He pulled Regulus and me to him and told us a story, just like he used to when we were kids. He whispered into my ear, so soft I could barely hear him, 'Do not fear, my chick. I will always be there for you. Look to the stars, and I will be there… smiling down at you.'" Hermione choked on her words, a spasm going through her body as the sob came. "Sirius didn't make it home in time. Mother… never forgave him. She wasted away without Orion, and she never forgave Sirius for choosing school friends over his own father. You know why she accepted Severus and Remus? They were the ones that kept me and Regulus together after Father died. They dragged me out of bed when I refused to get up on my own. Severus forced food down my throat. Remus threatened to bathe me like an infant since I wouldn't do it myself." Hermione snorted in a small laugh a the memory.

"She saw that, day after day, even as she dealt with her own grief," Hermione said. "She saw two people who refused to let her daughter waste away, even while she was wasting away."

"And the day she died," Hermione said. "She looked better. She looked like herself again. She took me into that stiff and proper hug that was socially acceptable. She pressed her lips to my forehead and told me to get out of that stuffy house and enjoy the spring weather. She gave Severus and Remus galleons when I wasn't looking and told them to take me out to dinner and have a good time."

Hermione leaned against Severus, burying her face into his robes. "When we came home, she was gone… sitting on the old rocking chair Father had made her when I was a baby. She had our family photo from back when we were all standing at King's Cross station before Hogwarts in her arms and Father's old Kneazle in her lap. They were both gone… together."

"I'm sorry I couldn't have been there for you," Lucius said softly, stroking her hair. "More than you can possibly know."

Hermione grasped his hand and squeezed it. "You were out of the Country with your family, Lucius. I do not blame you at all." She exchanged looks with Severus and Remus. "You've more than been there for me at other times."

Lucius seemed to take comfort in that as he stood up once more. "I fear I must make an appearance at the bank. My grandson decided to throw my Great Grandmother's tea service into the fireplace and flooed it to places unknown. It will take weeks of tracing and searching to gather it up again."

Severus raised an eyebrow as he rubbed Hermione's shoulders. "A little young for such mischief, don't you think, Lucius?"

Remus shook his head. "He's what… three?"

Lucius pursed his lips. "Never underestimate the ability of a Malfoy, even at the age of three."

Hermione stood up from the couch she was sharing with Severus and Remus. "I, for one, would never," she said with a smirk. She extended her hand and fell into a slight curtsy.

Lucius smoothly took up her hand and pressed his lips to the top of it. "It was a pleasure speaking with you again, my Lady," he said with automatic and refined decorum. "Severus," he said inclining his head. "Remus," he said with a nod.

Both men gave Lucius returning nods.

"Try not to traumatise the students overly much," Lucius said with a smirk, tapping his walking cane to his chin.

Severus, Remus, and Hermione gave Lucius an innocent halo look.

Lucius turned on his heels with a snort and swept the room, the flow of his cape fluttering behind him.

"You know," Hermione said after Lucius left. "Today, I'm supposed to teach a class on how to turn rats into teapots, and I can't help but think I should instead be teaching them how to turn rats into floor tiles so we can fix the upstairs corridor that Mr. Vanderburgh destroyed in his duel of 'honour' with Mr. Davidson." She flopped between Severus and Remus again with a sigh.

Severus lifted an eyebrow.

Remus nudged Hermione with his elbow. "You never have gotten over your dislike of rats, have you?"

Hermione pursed her lips together. "Never."

"Remind me never to do anything that makes you hold a grudge against me," Remus said.

"I think you learned that particular lesson back when we were eleven, Tuft," Hermione snorted.

"Touché," Remus chuckled.

"Not to be the herald of awkward moments," Severus said suddenly, causing his two friends to stare at him, "but it seems we have company." His pale and elegant finger pointed into the shadows of the lounge.

Hermione and Remus turned to stare into the dimly lit corner of the lounge.

Harry, wide-eyed and traumatised, stepped into the light. "Erm… hello, I was uh… looking for Hermione."

A flicker of something passed across Hermione's face as she brushed a tendril of her black hair away from her cheek.

"Harry," Hermione said after a moment. "Do come in."

Harry suddenly felt like the deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle car even more so than the countless little revelations he had just experienced listening to Hermione, Lucius, Severus, and Remus interact with each other for the past half hour of his hiding in the corner.

"You look like you have something heavy weighing on your mind," Hermione said.

Harry just stared at Hermione, taking in her grey eyes, black and curly hair, and strangely Slytherin coloured teaching robes. She looked older. Much older… yet some features were so definitively Hermione that he couldn't mistake her for someone else. He tried to say something, but unintelligible sounds came out.

Severus arched a brow at him.

That was the last thing Harry saw as all the blood drained out of his face and he passed out on the lounge rug.

Severus, Remus, and Hermione gathered around him, staring down at Harry, evaluating what was the best course of action.

"Pomfrey?" Remus asked.

"Pomfrey," Severus confirmed.

"_Mobilicorpus_," Hermione said, pointing her wand at the fallen Harry. "It's a good thing that Poppy is in the peak of health for a witch. I'm not sure she'll ever be able to retire." She tugged on Harry's collar and guided his body out the door of the lounge with her.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N**: Had to stop here. It's 3 am and I should be in bed! ARGH!

I will admit to copious amounts of tissues writing this chapter. I have no idea where it all came from. All I know is… the Hermione of this story adored her father very much, and while I got "into her head space" to write this, I just fell to pieces.

This chapter was a sort of a possible future. Next chapter will be back in 1971 where we belong! (Or at least where I think we belong storywise!)


	14. Sand Dragons and Conch Shells

**A/N:** Ok, I lied. I will at least un-cliffy the last chapter before continuing on. Sorry about that!

* * *

**Chapter 14: Sand Dragons and Conch Shells**

20th of June, 2009

Harry woke groggily to sun in his face in the Hospital wing. The feeling was so familiar that it seemed like home. Ron had even joked that they should have just carved their names into the beds with the regularity that one or three of them ended up there. Madam Pomfrey had always shook her head, tutting about "what have you gotten yourselves into this time?" and then proceeded to treat whatever ailment they had gained "mysteriously" by "tripping" or "accident."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione's voice chided him. It was so familiar and normal. "I imagine this is a bit much to take."

Harry's eyes shot open completely and he stared into the grey eyes of she that was Hermione and yet not Hermione. "Hermione?"

"Of course, Harry," she said gently, the familiar warmth that made his heart ache was there.

"I woke up in the room with all the albums," Harry blurted. "Your blood was on the wall. Ron was gone. You were gone. I thought he'd hurt you, dragged you off some where… I sent you owls, but they all came back. I sent patroni, and they just swirled around me and dissipated…"

Hermione's grey eyes flashed with the mention of Ron. "He did, of sorts, drag me off somewhere, but not in the way he planned, I think." She looked out the open window. "I've had a few decades to think on it, and I'm pretty sure had he known what he did was going to do, he wouldn't have done it."

"So you remember me," Harry said. "You remember what I remember?"

Hermione tilted her head. "I do remember who I once was, just as you do. Severus thinks it was the blood combined that did it. That and the combination of being thrown into the family tree with whatever homemade curse Ron used to do it."

"Wait… Snape knows?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione said so automatically that Harry knew this person who looked so much like Hermione yet not was still the Hermione he knew. "Blood magic is strongest with intent, and apparently whatever Ron was thinking when he cast that spell had some lousy intent."

Harry shook his head. "But Remus is is alive… Snape is alive, and you… let Malfoy kiss your hand."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "You would focus on that, Harry," she scolded. "Lucius has watched over me since I was eleven, and you'll find that just about every male of certain standing does that, I fear."

Harry shook his head, a part of him not digesting the information very well at all.

Hermione closed her eyes, moving her head down and shaking it. When she opened them, she used her hand to move the black curls away from her finely chiselled face. "I watched you grow up, you know," she said after a moment. "Every day, I wondered if you knew anything. If you remembered me. If anyone… remember the witch that had been Hermione Granger. But, I realised that it was good that you had your normal life—a life that didn't mean you being stuffed in a small cupboard under the stairs."

Harry frowned. When he thought about his childhood it was hazy. It was almost as though he were trying to catch tadpoles with his hands. They slipped through his fingers.

"As the days go on, you'll start to do things you never thought you'd do. Greet people in ways you don't remember doing. Understanding people that would have made your toes curl before," Hermione explained. "It will happen so slowly that you won't even notice, and all that panic you think should be there won't be."

Harry stared at her. "So it's true then… you really are—"

"Hermione Ankaa Black of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black," Hermione said with a chuckle. "Aye, Harry. It is true."

Harry struggled to sit up, and once accomplished, simply stared at her. Suddenly his fist clenched and jaw tightened. "Ron. Tell me you did something. Tell me he didn't just get away with it."

Hermione smirked as a dark swirl of robes materialised beside her. Snape looked down at him with a dispassionate air.

"Mr. Weasley couldn't have given himself a better punishment if I had cursed it into him myself," Severus said with a curl of his lips. The expression was so familiar that it actually made Harry relax.

Harry blinked. "What happened to Ron?"

Hermione and Snape exchanged glances.

A strangely predatory look crossed Hermione's face. "He grew up… with us as his teachers, and I remember every lazy habit and trick he ever did the first time around."

Harry's eyes went wide, trying to fathom what it would be like for Hermione to his professor at Hogwarts. And, as if flipping through a book, he remembered her standing at the front of the classroom, teaching them how to turn mice into snuffboxes. He remembered Ron being called on every time he started to talk to Harry instead of focus on his studies. He remembered Snape giving him detention every time he mumbled unflattering insults in what he thought was under his breath.

"_Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, for your cheek," Snape growled._

"_I'm sure that Ms. Brown's perfume is undoubtedly attractive, Mr. Weasley, but I recommend you focus on your task at hand, unless you would prefer to write your sonnets to her during detention with me this evening." Hermione's voice dripped venom as she caught Ron oogling at Lavender Brown during Transfiguration class._

"Do you know what is going to be interesting, Harry?" Hermione asked softly.

Harry shook his head.

"There is a good chance," she said with a smirk, "that Ron will start remembering just enough of Hermione Granger to question his sanity." Who, after all, would accuse a member of the Ancient and Noble House of Black as being a Muggle Born? Hermione Ankaa Black was born and raised into the Black family. Hermione Granger… was a memory of a timeline that never happened. All because of Ron.

Who could he tell that would believe him? Who could he tell that wouldn't get him put into Azkaban for a crime so unforgiveable that it would probably be written down in the history of unforgiveables? No, Ron would have to suffer it alone, knowing exactly what he did, and forced to see Hermione throughout two separate histories. Both Hermiones would find him distasteful. Both would never be his to have.

Harry had to admit. If you were cruising to give yourself a horrible lifetime tormenting curse, Ron had accomplished a great feat that would never actually be known. What an irony. Ron's greatest feat of magic would never be believed.

Severus touched Hermione on the shoulder. "Perhaps, we should invite your… 'old friend' to dinner, Hermione," he rumbled softly. "Remus is threatening to make lasagna. It would a pity if we could not inflict it upon others."

"Severus!" Hermione scoffed. "He cooks perfectly well," she chuckled into her hand.

"For a mongrel who prefers to bathe his prey in drool before eating it, perhaps," Severus huffed.

"He bathes us in drool every moon night," Hermione admonished. "And he hasn't eaten us yet."

"Yet," Severus snorted, looking up to the ceiling.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Snape's waist pressed her head against his chest. "Behave, Severus. We've had forty years to come to terms. Harry has had one day. Most of which was unconscious with a hangover."

Severus' face twitched, but he wrapped his arm around her and exhaled, tucking her under his chin. "Fine."

Hermione kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "It's bad enough he's having a coronary because your arms are around my waist and I just kissed you on the cheek." She flicked her eyes over to where Harry was staring bug-eyed at her.

Hermione smiled at Harry with amusement. "First, we're the same age, Harry. We've been the best of friends since we were eleven. You can thank Lily for introducing us. Second, you're invited to dinner with us tonight. Hopefully Poppy will be kind enough to set you free before then, otherwise we will have to bring the lasagna to you."

Harry just nodded dumbly.

"We could strap the picnic basket to the wolf and let him carry it," Severus said without a change in expression.

Hermione swatted Severus on the arm, glaring at him with laughing eyes.

As Harry looked into his old Potion Master's eyes as the Dark wizard's black eyes bored into Hermione, he saw something that he never expected to see: warmth.

A crack of a smile crept into Harry's expression, even through the shock. Oh, Ron, you sodding idiot. You really did turn the Wizarding world on its arse.

He stared at Hermione touch Severus on the cheek and run her finger down his aquiline nose.

Arse over kettle. Definitely.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Monday, December 20th, 1971_

"Hermione!" a blur of motion was the only thing Hermione saw before she was tackled in mid stride through the front door.

"Eaguh!" Hermione managed to articulate as her younger and exuberant brother ploughed into her with due haste.

Hermione flailed as she was attacked by her brother, and she laughed as she dropped her bags and engulfed him into a hug of her own. "Regulus! Let me breathe!"

Regulus just squeezed her harder, causing Hermione to wheeze slightly.

"Enough, my son," Orion called from the stairs as he came down them. "I would prefer that my daughter did not expire on her first visit home.

Regulus pulled away reluctantly, obvious wanting to glean all of Hermione's adventures through osmosis as quickly as possible.

"Welcome home, my chick," Orion greeted warmly, opening his arms to her.

Hermione wasted no time running to his embrace, practically tackling him with the same enthusiasm that Regulus has show her.

Her father's arm enfolded her with the warmth he never failed to give. "It is good to see you home safe."

"Father," she said, rolling her face against his shoulder.

"And who is this, my chick? A straggler or a guest?" Orion's face was amused. He stroked his beard with a thoughtful gaze.

"Father," Hermione said after a moment, shuffling over to tug Severus in from the doorway. "This is Severus Snape. One of my fellow Housemates and friends. Severus, this is my father, Orion Black."

Severus made a formal half bow at the waist. "Thank you for your kind invitation to visit your home, Lord Black."

Orion smirked, then straighted his posture, giving an imperial nod. "Be welcome in my home, friend of my daughter. A friend is a treasure beyond measure in this family. I will trust that my daughter's faith in you is deserved."

An orange fuzzball with batlike ears and a lionlike tail bounced down the stairs, chasing a ball down the steps.

"Ah," Orion said, picking up the wayward Kneazle in a scooping motion. "This is Denebola. He will probably be in whatever chair you want to sit in. You have my permission to extract him if this comes to pass."

Severus smirked and nodded to the elder Black.

Orion let the wriggling Kneazle down after a few pats. "Where is your twin, my chick?" Orion asked as Regulus rescooped up the Kneazle and carried him by the waist into the next room to place him on the nearby chair. The Kneazle meowed in protest, but tolerated the boy's rough handling.

Regulus came back, brushing the orange fur off himself and then extended his hand to Severus. "I'm Regulus! You're Hermione's friend? She says you're really smart! Will you teach me something?"

Orion smirked as Severus' brows furrowed, unsure what to say or do. Deciding to go on the side of caution, he grasped Regulus' hand and inclined his head. "Pleasure to make your aquaintence, young Lord Black," he said politely.

"You can call me Regulus! Or Reg. Sometimes mum calls me Brat, but I don't think you're supposed to know that," Regulus gushed out at once.

Orion tilted back his head and guffawed. "Now, my son, perhaps you can show our honoured guest to his room, hrm? Instead of trapping him in our entryway?"

Regulus bounced. "I'll take your bags!" he said excitedly, grabbed one of Severus' trunks and dragged it off down the hallway. "This way!" he said without looking back.

Severus looked to Hermione for guidance, and she chuckled, gesturing for him to follow her exuberant brother.

Orion was luring Sagacity over to a new perch he had made for him. The owl was happily devouring what could have been a large frog.

Kreacher popped into view to take Hermione's coat, and Hermione tackled him with a full hug, squeezing him tight. "Hello, Kreacher! Thank you for the cookies!"

The house-elf blushed and shuffled, muttering something under his breath as he put away the coats, but Hermione could tell that the house-elf was happy to see her home again.

"Your mother sends her apologies that she will be out for the next few days," Orion said as Hermione flopped in her favourite armchair. "An old friend was sent to St. Mungo's. Attacked on the streets by Muggles, I fear."

"Muggles?" Hermione asked. "That's horrible. What happened?"

Orion shook his head. "She is not the only one, however, most of those attacked seem to be Muggles. Lady Dougherty was simple in the wrong place at the wrong time, the Aurors say."

Hermione frowned. "Should I sent an owl and perhaps some flowers, father? I did not know her well, but I know mother attends her socials from time to time."

Orion nodded. "That would be fitting of you, daughter. Perhaps you, your friend, and Regulus would like to run the errand together before the shops close.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Of course, Father."

As if summoned by the very thought of going shopping, Regulus showed up at the entryway with Severus in tow. The younger boy was dragging the baffled wizard by the sleeve. He cast a desperate glance to Hermione that spoke of "help," "what do I do now?" and "he's touching me!"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well, we will wait for your twin to return home before the major shopping for the holiday takes place, my chick," Orion said, pulling his travel cape. "But, nothing says we have to sit here like toadstools on a log."

Regulus gave a whoop, letting go of Severus' sleeve in order to run to get his coat.

Hermione placed her hand on Severus' shoulder and smiled at him.

The dark-eyed wizard leaned into her touch, a quirk of a smile upon his lips.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Orion Black stabbed the shade umbrella into the sand and laughed as Regulus chased his sister into the ocean surf. Hermione's quiet friend held the picnic basket and one of the other supply trunks, setting them down under the umbrella as Orion erected a bunch of beach chairs for their lounging pleasure. It was a family tradition to take the children to a warm southernly beach during the cold months for a couple of days, and this year was no exception.

The particular beach was unplottable by Muggles, and it made for a safe place for his children to frolic along the shore and not worry about breaking the secrecy laws.

Hermione's young friend, Orion realised, was a quiet sort. He attended his daughter with the devotion of a silent body guard, cracking a smile whenever he thought no one was looking. He had manners, somewhat awkward as if he had recently learned them, but he was trying hard to integrate them that Orion took no offence when he stumbled a bit over them. Regulus had glued himself to Severus like a tick on a hound, adoring the boy with silent and not so silent adoration.

He caught Regulus trying to imitate his posture and his mannerisms, and Orion had to admit that the quiet Slytherin friend of his daughter was a better role model than Hermione's twin, even if he was a bit shy and stoic in comparison to his youngest son. Perhaps, a bit of self control would be a good thing for Regulus.

As Severus shuffled off to join Hermione in burying Regulus in the sand, Orion pondered the wanderings of his eldest son. Sirius, in his determination to be independent of his family name and reputation, seemed to be wear rebel on his mannerisms like one would wear a coat. He shunned his heritage, bent or broke as many rules as possible, and seemed determined to give his mother and father as many migraines as possible. Privately he wondered if they had been too permissive to him as a child, making him less able to handle rules when he was older, but then again, they had been the same to Hermione in regards to rules and upbringing and she never tried to dance on top of a bar counter in some random Muggle biker's leather jacket.

Walburga would have died on the spot if her daughter had done such a thing.

He smiled at the thought. Hermione had, in her own way, widdled away at her parent's views, changing them to be more tolerant in many ways. She had charmed Orion from the moment she came out of the womb, practically weaving her serpentine fingers around his heart and claiming it for her own. Even Walburga, whose excellent command of venom when it came to "common peasantry," had been slowly turned to more of tolerance with their daughter's infinite sense of tolerance as a child.

Hermione, as a toddler, had taken to clinging to her parents legs as she learned to walk, and every time she almost toppled, she would cling to whoever was near. This was, thankfully, usually her parents or her twin. Her parents were entirely acceptable. Her twin, however, went toppling to the ground and usually attempted to punch his twin in the face as he tried to scramble back up. What usually happened after her brother socked her on the nose would be her face screwing up in bafflement, then pain, then a loud wail would pierce the air of the entire park. Muggles from all over would come running to "rescue" her, and by the time it was all said and done, she had charmed them into her willing slaves within moments of them meeting her shiny grey eyes and her small almost chubby hands touched her new newest ally's face in wonder. So while Walburga had her hands full keeping Sirius from slugging his sister, unintentionally or no, Hermione had learned to sway the tide to her favour. She was a Black. There was no doubt. She would command the very stars to do her bidding, and they would obey willingly.

Orion smiled, but his thoughts returned to his son. His eyes flicked to the distant part of the beach where his son romped with his friends. Instead of hanging out with them, Orion noted, Sirius hijacked the family owl, messaged his friends to meet him at the beach, and was now laughing and playing at the far end of the Wizarding beach, as far from his family as possible. Part of him had to hand it to his son for knowing exactly what beach to tell his friends to meet him at, while the other part pondered what kind of parents just allowed their kids to make sudden plans to meet each other on a foreign beach… Orion was, at least, watching them out of the corner of his eyes to make sure they weren't getting into too much trouble.

Orion sighed. At least Walburga was off being a dutiful friend at St. Mungo's. She didn't have to see her elder son ignoring his family for his school friends without even asking for permission to saunter off and do so. He wondered if there was ever going to be some reconciliation between Sirius and his family that would not end with his wife screaming her head off and sending his other two children hiding in the wardrobe with the house-elf. He loved his wife, but there were far more times Walburga lost her patience with Sirius than kept her cool.

Cheerful laughs and squeals broke his thoughts as Regulus busted out of the sand and pounced on his sister, pinning her down as Severus piled sand on top of her. She screamed in indignation, but he saw her smiles and didn't worry overly much. He knew, soon enough, she would break free as she always did, and turn the tables once more.

Sagacity, dutiful and loyal, dove bombed both Regulus and Severus, trying to distract them from piling even more sand on his Mistress, but Orion saw that as much as he was nipping and wing beating them, the owl was playing as much as his daughter. The rules of play combat were in force.

Finally, Hermione busted out of the sand and pounced on Severus, attempting to bury him and build a sand castle above his pinned body. The sand castle looked suspiciously like Hogwarts.

Severus flailed, crashing the castle down, and all three children laughed, splashing water at each other.

Orion smiled. It was good the children were able to be children. Here, on the foreign beach, there were no titles to muck up relations. One child was just another child, and one parent just another parent.

Finally, after some time, the kids dragged themselves back to lay under the umbrella to escape the sun. All three of them flopped against each other, slamming their sandy feet together in play as they reclined on the over-sized beach towels.

Orion pulled out his wand and constructed a huge sandcastle around their umbrella, making it strong enough that they could clamber over and in it. He constructed sand dragons to perch upon the parapets, and made knights out of the ocean shells to attack.

The children laughed encouragement for the dragons and cheered with the dragons "ate" the knights. Happy endings were a matter of perspective, after all. He couldn't have been more proud. When the sun began to set over the sandcastle, Orion bid them all prepare to make the trek up the beach to their accommodations, and he couldn't help but notice Severus' wistful face as he stared across the beach as if to imprint the memory into his mind forever.

Orion did one step better by taking a picture of the group of them standing by the sandcastle at sunset. One more for the extensive Black family picture albums.

Orion plucked a conch shell from the shore and rinsed it off in the pooling water. Calling his magic to him, he tapped it with his wand, weaving the charm he desired into it. He nudged Severus and handed him the shell, gesturing him to put it up to his ear.

Severus obeyed, and his eyes lit up with amazement as the true sound of the surf and the scent of the ocean wafted from the shell's opening. A phantom sand dragon alighted on top of the shell for a while, roared, and then flew off. Severus looked at Orion with such emotion that he knew that the boy's experience with gifts had been lacking. It was sad to see it in a boy who was obvious very observant and bright for his age. Orion smiled at him and motioned for him to follow the others up the trail to their lodging.

Pulling up the beach umbrella, Orion called his grumbling elder son back to his family group, reassuring him that he could meet up with his friends on the morrow. Sirius gave him a look that seemed to say he didn't believe it, but within a few minutes, Regulus and Hermione pounced on him and they raced him up the sand dunes as they carried the picnic basket and supplies up the dunes with them.

Slinging the umbrella over his shoulder, Orion grinned. The time for snow and a happy Christmas would be soon enough, but for now, he was content that his children and their seasonal guest would sleep deeply that evening and dream of sand dragons who defeated the impertinent knights.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Remus,

Today, Father took us all to the beach down south where the snow is but a rumour used to scare children who are bad tempered. The warm sand and surf was such a change from the horrible chill that was taking over London the day we ported out.

Regulus, as I predicted, as found someone to idol in Severus, and poor Severus doesn't know what to do with someone looking to him with such faith.

Somehow, Sirius managed to owl word of where we were to his Gryffindor friends, and they met him out on the beach. He spend the entire time, save when father called him in, with his friends instead of us, but regardless, Severus, Regulus, and I had a wonderful time. Father made us one of his infamous sandcastles that he's done since we weren't old enough to walk properly. It was so beautiful in the sunset. You would have adored it. I'm sad that you couldn't be here, but at least you get to spend time with your family, and that's something to be thankful for as well.

I wish that Severus' family life was better so he could be with them as well, but, from what he's told me, the last Christmas he had with his family was him being kicked by his drunken father. His mum begged him to try and find somewhere else to be during the holidays, saying that his father, Tobias, has gotten much worse. She's managed to charm herself with a version of a not-notice-me spell to keep his anger and his fists away from her, but she doesn't want Severus to come home to that. I feel awful about that. Father said, after Severus and Regulus passed out, that Severus was welcome to join us for each holiday. I haven't told him yet, but I'm glad father approves of him. Maybe one of these holidays you can come visit as well for a day or two. Just enough so I don't miss you so badly!

I picked you up the shell I've managed to wrap so Sagacity can carry it without struggling to hard. It was grey like your fur, and I find it quite beautiful. I left some of the sand inside it, so don't tip it over on your bed if that is where you are reading this!

I sent Lily a shell as well. Severus and I picked it out from one of the sand bars in the surf. It was pristine white, unlike the other shells, shining like no other shell on the beach. We figured she would like that.

Christmas is coming up soon, and I'm so excited. Father promises to let us go shopping together when we get back from the beach, and I cannot wait to visit the little decorated shops in London. Father promises to let us shop outside Diagon Alley if we promise to stay close to him.

I'm so tired. It's been an exhausting day. I hope you are doing well, and please give my best to your parents for the holiday.

Your friend,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

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**A/N**: Sleep time for me. ZzzzzZzzz. Apologies for typos.


	15. Christmas Shopping

_Rule #27: First way they don't notice you. Second way they always notice you. -NCIS _

**Chapter 15: Christmas Shopping**

Dear Master,

My father has taken our family to the beach this Christmas holiday, and I found you a shell I think you will like. Its colour is just like your fur including the tabby markings, and I couldn't help but think of you.

Do professors get out for the holiday as well? Or are you required to stay at Hogwarts for those that must stay? I hope you are having time to relax regardless of where you are.

My meditations are going well. I think you will be happy with my progress upon my return after holiday. I hope so, anyway.

The beach sand here is almost so white that it's like snow that never melts. The water takes on this beautiful shade of blue and green that is distinctly not like Black Lake. You can smell the salt in the air even from beyond the dunes, and it is such a wild sensation. I wonder, perhaps, what it would be like to be a seabird, gliding along above the surf, or one of the ocean denizens, swimming in the ocean's waters like a bird would in the air.

I also picked you up a few perfectly round, black stones from the coast sand bar. Severus and my younger brother, Regulus helped me find them. We piled a ton of them on the shore and picked out the most uniform ones for you. You mentioned that you have been meaning to make a natural rune set, but haven't had the time to gather the stones. I hope you don't find it presumptuous of us to gather them for you. We had a lot of fun doing it, and if they will not suit your purposes as runes, perhaps you can use them to decorate your water garden in your office. I tested to see if Sagacity is capable of carrying the stones as well as the shell, and he seems determined to do so. I've never known an owl such as he. I'm so happy he wanted to come with me on that afternoon before taking the Hogwarts Express.

I hope you have a very happy Christmas, my Master.

Sincerely, your Apprentice,

Hermione Black (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was well into the dark of night when Hermione stirred to the feeling of someone snuggling under the covers with her. Her brother's scent, which somehow always smelled of dog and cinnamon, told her who it was even before she opened her eyes. She relaxed.

Sirius, much like the prodigal, returned to her side as he always did, taking comfort from her presence like a dog returning to the house after darting out the front gate and roaming the city for days only to return weeks later to abase themselves on return home.

Being at Hogwarts had, of course, prevented the "normal" reconciliation that happened between the twins. It usually always ended this way, with him pressed against her back snuggling into her as though they were still in the womb together. The connection was undeniable between them. No matter how much he "ran" from his family, they had shared the same mother at the same time, pressed together in an intimacy before they were even born. He would, rarely if ever of course, admit that he missed her out loud. This was, perhaps, his only tried and true indicator of need or want to make things good between them. He sought her familiar scent and presence as he would seek a missing part of himself as if realising that in his quest to distance himself from the family to "be his own person" he had tried to cut off his arm to spite his face. Whatever comfort he was getting from his friendship with the young James Potter and Peter Pettigrew must have filled some gaping hole he desperately sought to fill, but for the life of her, she could not made sense of what.

She wanted to understand because she wanted to understand her brother, but since he wasn't exactly forthcoming on the reason, all she was doing was spinning her proverbial wheels in speculation. That part of her that was Hermione Granger, liked to chew on reasons well into the night, but the part that was the twin of Sirius Black simply wanted to feel that closeness with her twin she had always had.

It wasn't the same feeling she felt when snuggled with Remus and Severus on Tuft's moon days. That intimacy and closeness of choice was not the same. What she had with the werewolf and her wizard friend was growing and evolving into something greater than themselves, but it was still forming, growing, and finding itself.

Her connection with Sirius had started before they were born and was as undeniable as the shift in seasons or the rising of the sun. And, at that particular moment, the shift brought him back to her as if to apologise for shunning her the entire day for his other friends.

She couldn't quite blame him entirely. She hadn't exactly sought him out when Severus, Lily, and Remus were around. Were they really any different? Hermione pondered if the real problem she had was who he was affiliating with rather than the fact that he wanted to be with his friends. Relationships were complicated.

"Let's build a sandcastle," Sirius whispered, tugging on her nightshirt.

Hermione grinned.

The both of them slipped out of the bed and sneaked out of the lodging house with him back to the beach, their bare feet making hardly a sound. By the time they reached the sand, they started to run down the beach in the moonlight, giggling.

Sand flew in all directions and Hermione and Sirius got down on all fours and shove led out the sand to make the base of the castle. Sirius kicked sand out of the area in a flurry of hands and feet.

"Agh! Canis!" Hermione shoved her shoulder into him as he kicked up sand into her in his enthusiasm. "You're such a dog."

Sirius laughed, turning a little to aim the sand somewhere else.

They built up the walls together, using shells to fortify the sides and driftwood to make a framework for the walls. Hermione held the walls up as Sirius pressed in from the outside, building up the miniature castle wall by wall.

By the time the pair had built it up, The "miniature" castle was big enough to be its own playhouse.

"Bigger than our last one, Hermione!" Sirius laughed, propping up a piece of drift wood as a flag pole and hanging seaweed from it like a banner.

"I can't wait to show dad in the morning," Hermione laughed.

"If it survives the tide coming in," Sirius pouted.

"Awww," Hermione whined. "We put in so much work."

"We should get back before dad wakes up," Sirius grunted as he slammed his hands down on the side of the castle to pack the sand down.

"I just want to clear out the inside here a little more before I go in," Hermione said, pushing out more sand from the inside.

"Ok, I'm going to go sneak back in, hopefully that will keep dad unaware of our mischief," Sirius snickered.

"Since when does dad not know about our mischief, really?" Hermione smirked. "He's probably waiting on the porch for us to get back.

Sirius pouted. "We've gotten better at sneaking."

"Better, but dad is better," Hermione smirked.

"Okay, okay," Sirius placated. "At least we can keep Regulus from complaining that we sneaked out without him."

Hermione laughed. "Sure. I'll give you that."

"Don't turn into a raisin, sis," Sirius warned. "The tide is coming in and it's getting kind of chilly."

"I won't, Canis," Hermione said. "I just have a little more to do and I'll be right up after you. She grinned at him through the sand portcullis.

Sirius laughed and it was a genuine smile on his face. This was the twin she remembered growing up with, and it was like meeting an old friend.

Her twin stuck a flag made of driftwood and seaweed into the ground near their project and scampered off up the dunes back to the lodging house.

It took about a half hour of smoothing and shuffling, but Hermione was happy with the inside of the sand castle. She hoped it would survive so her father, Regulus, and Severus could see their handiwork.

She heard the footsteps approaching before she saw the shadows moving outside the castle. "Forget something, brother?"

"Snake in a trap, eh Peter?"

"Yeah," Peter's snicker caused her hair to stand on end. Her wand was back in a truck back at the lodge. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Even with the trace, they would forgive her for self defence. She didn't even think of taking her wand with her when she and her twin had come out to play in the sand. Where were the battle hardened reflexes and paranoia? Obviously still back at sleep at the lodge…

Clack. Clack.

Stones hit the side of their sand castle, pinging of the sides, sending cascades of sand down upon her from the roof of the castle. All of her work with her twin was coming down on her head.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

"Going to come out, snake?"

"Just going to sit in there and let it come down on you? Like a good little self-preservation Slytherin?"

Clack. Kick. Clack. Kick. Clack. Whoosh.

Sand was coming down on on her head from above.

"Slither on out, why don't you, little snake?"

Hermione felt the anger build in her at the name calling. Once she had been degraded and called low because she was Gryffindor. Now she was being taunted because she was Slytherin. She was tired of being the one targeted for not being whatever it was that someone else wanted.

Clack. Clack. Pain.

She touched her forehead. Blood trickled down her forehead where one of the stones they were throwing to take down the castle hit her.

The sand above her shuddered, and the entire ceiling collapsed on top of her with a crash.

"Heh, so much for your castle, snake. Shoddy workmanship."

"Come on, Peter," James laughed. "Tide is coming in. We wouldn't want to get wet."

The pair left the pile of wet sand and shells, stones and seaweed, and one lone Slytherin witch to the tide.

Hermione's head burst up from the pile of sand, spitting out sand and a shell. Her grey eyes had gone the colour of silver, filled with the flickers of fire that spread until her eyes were pure flames.

Suddenly, a flutter of wings broke her out of her seething anger, and Sagacity landed on the sand pile. He hooted with concern, thunking his head into her face.

"Sagacity," Hermione said. "Thank Merlin. Please, get help. I can't move my arms. The sand is too heavy."

The huge eagle owl was trying hard to dig her out, but only managed to free her head a little more. He hooted in distress.

"Please, Sagacity," Hermione pleaded. "Hurry."

The eagle owl hooted and took off, flying back over the dunes towards the lodge.

Hermione closed her eyes in relief. Sagacity would get her help. The weight of the sand was making it hard to breath, and the rising tide was weighing it down even more around her body. She tried to focus her thoughts so she didn't need to breathe quite so frantically.

In a few minutes, her breathing was calm, and footsteps came down from the dune.

"Hermione!"

Hands started to dig her out.

"Severus," Hermione whispered. "Sirius."

"Hold on," her twin said. "We'll get you out."

The sand around her finally fell away, and she tumbled out of the pile on top of the two young wizards.

"Hermione, what happened?" Sirius asked.

Severus asked nothing. His arms were full of shivering witch, and it drove whatever questions he might have had to the wayside.

Hermione just shook her head, saying nothing, but clinging to the both of them as she shivered.

There was a low hooting, and the two wizards looked up to see the dark figure of Orion Black running down the dune with a robe in his arms and a mage light following him as Sagacity clung to his shoulder, hooting distress.

"My chick," he said softly, kneeling in the sand. He wrapped the robe around his wet daughter and took her into his arms, lifting her so she wrapped her arms around his neck. Hoisting her up so he could walk, he carried her back up the dunes without a word, Severus and Sirius following behind like lost puppies.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hermione, what happened?" Sirius asked.

Hermione snuggled into the robe as the sun warmed her on the porch. She looked like she wanted to say something, but bit her lip, and turned her head away.

"Come on, sis," Sirius pleaded. "Please, tell us."

Hermione took in a deep breath. "Potter and Pettigrew," she said softly. "They came after you left. Called me a snake. Starting throwing things at the castle and kicking it. The roof collapsed and fell on me, then they left."

Both wizard's faces darkened, but it was Sirius who said, "No, they wouldn't do that. You're my sister. They wouldn't just… Not when… NO!" He stood up, his fists clenched.

Hermione, seeing his disbelief, turned her head away. Staring at the nearby retaining wall.

Severus seemed to be fighting something he wanted to say and finally gave up. "Why would she make it up?"

"I don't know!" Sirius said with a glare. "Maybe because she's never liked my choice in friends!"

Hermione snapped her head up and gave Sirius such a heartbroken look that he immediately regretted his words, but it was too late. Hermione stood up, pulled the robe around her tightly, and stormed over to where Orion Black was keeping company with Sagacity as he wrote a letter with a large feather quill.

"Hermione, wait," Sirius started. "Her—damnit." Sirius clenched his fists and turned on his heels and stormed the other direction.

Severus took in a deep breath, stood up, and walked over to where Hermione was and sat down next to her.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione knew she should have kept her mouth shut as to what had happened, but she had taken the risk in the belief that her brother would have believed her in her description of what had happened. The moment the story had come from her lips, her brother had reacted much as she would have if someone had accused Harry of being anything less than a good person. No one wants to learn that someone they hold as a friend is a less than shining example, and she knew she was no exception to the rule. She had put up with less than stellar behaviour from Ron for years before she finally threw in the towel, and Harry had continued to be friends with Ron long after she and Ron had parted ways. Relationships were so… complicated.

Hermione was crushed. In the course of a few hours, her reconciliation with her twin had gone 180 degrees in the opposite direction, and it seemed that they were doomed to fight, make up, fight, and make up. A part of her wondered when the fight would end and the make up would not occur. She dreaded that.

Severus, to his credit, offered up silent comfort rather than sagely advice, not that she expected grand relationship advice from him. She could tell that he was irritated with her twin, and while he knew that she cared for her brother, a part of him dismissed his behaviour as blazingly Gryffindor. There was a time, he would have probably been shocked to know, when she was abhorrently Gryffindor.

Her father, who made himself busy writing letters nearby, was keeping one eye on his traumatised daughter. He made it look like he was preoccupied, but Hermione knew better. Her father was anything but an idiot. He knew what had happened without asking, literally seeing the tracks in the sand leading away from the demolished sand castle. He didn't need to ask. He didn't ask for names, nor did he have to. All he had to do was watch when Sirius walked by with his friends and then observe his daughter's stiffened posture, averted gaze, and smoldering fury to figure out that something was amiss.

After about an hour or so, the sun was baking down upon the beach once more and it was warm enough to resume the epic sand construction once more. This time, however, Hermione had Severus and Regulus with her, and the trio moved down towards the beach together. Orion stayed with them, making sure they stayed in sight of him and his shade umbrella. They built large sand creatures in the beach sand as their second day's project. Regulus dreamt large and constructed a dragon sleeping against the dune. Severus made a sleeping wolf that looked quite a bit like a certain Tuft, and Hermione carved out a sleeping three-headed dog complete with harp and trapped door.

Both Severus and Regulus looked at Hermione like she had three of her own heads, perhaps wondering where the inspiration for that particular creature had sprung from. She gave them a gallant shrug.

By the time lunch rolled around, Hermione had bounced back to her more cheerful self. The food sever brought them all drinks with magically charmed iceburgs complete with christmas trees, polar bears, and snow seals.

"Happy almost Christmas, children," Orion said, saluting them with his polar bear infested drink. The polar bear on his drink swatted Orion's beard as he drank from the glass, sending a puff of snow into the elder Black's face.

The children giggled, and Orion arched a wiggled his brows at his children and Severus.

"The gift shoppes are all open, children. Do you wish to hunt for your Christmas presents?" Orion said, knowing what the response would be.

Regulus tackled his father in a hug. "Can we go now?"

"Hrm," Orion said, looking upward. "I don't know. I'm feeling kind of tired all of the sudden."

"Pleaaaaaase, Father!" Regulus begged. He puffed out his bottom lip in a perfect pout.

Orion tilted back his head and guffawed. "Fine, I suppose. All of you go change into your socially acceptable clothing so you do not embarrass me in public," he said with a smirk. "And pack your trunks so we can port out after we are done. We have a white Christmas to attend to back home."

Regulus gave a whoop of victory and scampered off to the room to change.

As Hermione and Severus got up to follow, Orion put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Daughter," he said softly.

Hermione looked up into her father's silver eyes.

"There are times when we must stand by our friends because we believe in them," Orion said softly. "There are other times when we must do so because to do otherwise is a slight of honour. Rare and precious is the time when those we stand by are tried and true, loyal unto death, and worth all the pain in the world to do so. Sometimes we must be terribly lucky that our first choice is the right one, and no one wants to believe that those they have put their faith in are, in fact, not worthy of our devotion."

Orion pressed his lips to her forehead in a gently kiss. "Forgive your brother his weaknesses and his stubborn loyalty," her father said softly. "His loyalty is his weakness and perhaps one of his greatest strengths. There will come a time when he realises that you have always been there for him, and he will be ashamed and insecure. You must be better than that which your twin seems to think we are. You are a Black, of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black. While your brother tries to run from everything that means acknowledging his birthright, I know in your heart you do not run. You not fear. Some may think such traits are Gryffindor, but I know better. The ultimate Slytherin protects what is theirs, and unlike Gryffindor, we do not hide what we believe is ours until false platitudes. We built our alliances because it benefits us. We protect what we desire, whether it be friend or family or an idea."

Orion brushed his daughter's curls from her face. "The key to winning is having an idea that swallows up your enemy and makes them your ally. Make them want what you have so badly that they are willing to see your way of thinking. Let them willingly follow you into the fire. Fear will only inspire loyalty for so long. Love, my young chick, will inspire the very mountains to move and a loyalty that stays unto death."

"Do we have an understanding, my phoenix?" Orion asked softly.

Hermione said nothing but flung her arms around her father's neck and buried her face into his neck.

Orion pulled her to him, bracing her head against him and closing his eyes. He patted her gently. "Go wash up and change, my daughter. There are shoppes just waiting for your perusal."

Hermione pulled back and kissed her father's cheek, took Severus by the hand, and dragged him off with her.

Orion smiled as he watched them leave together. "You have chosen well in your first _chevalier_, my young chick. If only your twin could be so fortunate." He turned to watch his wayward son baking himself under the hot sun with his friends from school. He squared his shoulders and set off to collect his son for the shopping trip.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Don't forget to save some for yourself, young Severus," Orion said with a rumble, extending his hand with a small leather pouch.

Severus Snape stared at the bag of coins that Orion Black was handing him with wide eyes. He had given one to each of his children, and he extended the same courtesy in doing so for Severus with the tilt of his head that brokered no refusal.

Severus took it reverently, bowing his head with the respect to both his elder and person of his station, but Orion simply nodded casually with the same warmth he gave his own children.

When Severus was far enough away as to not look like a guilty thief examining his loot sack after a robbery, he peered into the coin purse with amazement. There were galleons inside. Galleons! More galleons that he had ever been given for anything, including the days he went shopping for his school supplies in Diagon Alley. Even the little leather pouch that carried the coins was beyond anything he had ever had to carry his meagre sickles and knuts in.

Hermione was magnetically drawn to the bookstore like a moth to flame, and both he and Regulus followed after her, paying close attention to which books her fingers lingered on and which books she turned her nose up at.

There were so many books in this particular shop that it seemed more like a library, and Severus couldn't help the sense of wonder at many of them. As he touched a few of them, part of him expected Madam Pince to come flying around the corner to crack his knuckles and tell him to keep his dirty hands off the restricted section.

Regulus nudged him. Severus saw him put his hand behind his back and point towards a book on the shelf and then dragged Hermione off to some obscure part of the bookstore, proclaiming there was a book she had to see.

Severus lifted a brow and approached the shelf. There was a book that Regulus had pulled out just a little bit more than the others in passing: _Myth as Reality: A Study of the Beasts Muggles Think Don't Exist. _Severus smirked. Hermione would like reading something like that for "light reading."

He snatched the book off the shelf and took it to the cashier swiftly, hiding himself behind the line of other people. The helpful wizard behind the counter gift wrapped the book with a flick of his wand, and summoned a rack of bookplates and present labels.

Severus pointed to the emerald and silver ribbon as the wizard began to wrap the ornate paper with ties. He plucked a bookplate with long plumed birds on it that looked similar to a certain phoenix he knew. Attempting to make his handwriting a little more legible, he wrote a small note and signed it, looking up to see Regulus bounding towards him with a grin on his face.

The youngest Black sidled up to him, grasped a quill, and quickly wrote his own note on the book plate and card. He grinned at Severus, shaking out a few coins from his pouch to split the cost between them, and scampered off to "occupy" his sister again.

"Do you wish this to be delivered on Christmas morning?" the elder wizard asked with a smile.

"Yes, please," Severus said with a quirk of his lips.

"Very well, please put the name and residence on this card, and we will make sure it is delivered on time," the wizard said with a smile.

Severus carefully wrote "Hermione Black, Black Estate, 12 Grimmauld Place, London."

The wizard smiled at him, tucking the parcel away for delivery, and took his coins in payment for the book. "Happy Christmas," the wizard said cheerfully.

Severus wrestled with his expression, unsure what to do. Christmas was not exactly cheerful at his family residence. He gave a small smile in reply, just enough to gain a smile and nod from the older wizard and then shuffled away, feeling quite embarrassed.

Orion was watching him from the front of the store, his silver eyes flashing with amusement. He nodded to Severus in approval before going back to keep a watchful eye on his daughter and youngest son.

As Severus moved to check out the nearby store, Orion placed hand on his shoulder. "There is a wondrous clothing store across the street with winter cloaks, despite the fact that you would not need them here. The clothiers are top notch. Even if you do not get something for yourself, well, I know Regulus has coveted his sister's for quite some time."

Severus smirked at the tip. He nodded his head in thanks. Orion patted him and went back to his vigil watching over his children.

The clothiers was amazing. Robes both formal and casual draped over every nook and cranny. Fabrics of every texture and colour flowed from bolts on the walls. Enchanted scissors and tapes floated in the air, snipping, cutting, measuring fabric as enchanted needles stitched away. There were school uniforms for various magical schools—he recognised the furred cloaks of Durmstrang and the gossamer robes of Beauxbatons—scattered around the store. In one niche was the garb of Hogwarts, and in another was something that did not seem as familiar. He fingered the tag. American uniform. It looked somewhat strange to him, so unlike the uniform of Hogwarts that it barely even looked like a uniform at all.

He found a lined woollen outer travelling cloak that seemed perfect for the colder weather. The fabric was thick, but surprisingly light. His fingers tingled with the warming and cooling enchantments sewn into the fabric.

Severus found one of Regulus' size and pulled it off the rack. It bore the inner lining of the Slytherin House, but the Hogwarts' House insignia was not emblazoned on it. It would be perfect for Regulus, and when the time came, and he was undoubtedly sorted into Slytherin, he could affix the patch of his House upon the front. A small quirk of his lips. Hermione's twin may be the rebel of her family's name, but he had no doubt that Regulus would follow his sister's and his family's trend.

A long cloak caught his eye, and he touched it with his fingers, feeling the softness of the fabric. It was undoubtedly Slytherin. The emerald green lining was accented with silver. A heavy cloak clasp of a silver snake hooked the nape together. Sparkling red ruby eyes glittered on the snake clasp. It was beautiful.

He took the cloak off the rack and tried it on. The cloak went down to his ankles in a drape, but it felt comfortable even in the heat of the current climate. Magic was truly a wonderful thing. Feeling a bit self-conscious, he put it back on the hanger and then back on the rack. As much as he would love to have it, he was here to shop for Christmas gifts for others. Perhaps, if he had money left after the gift shopping was done, he could come back for it.

He brought up the cloak for Regulus to the witch behind the counter.

"Is this a gift, dear? Do you need it wrapped and owled for Christmas Day?" the pleasant witch asked.

"Yes, please," Severus said.

The woman handed him a gift card to sign, and he used the nearby quill to write a short note to Regulus, signed it, and addressed the front of the envelope. The witch took his galleons for the cloak and tutted as she tucked it under the elaborate ribbons on the parcel. She smiled at him warmly. "London, eh?" the witch said, eyeing the card address with interest. "Cold up there, I hear. White Christmas for sure."

Severus nodded.

"Well, I'm sure whoever this is you are sending the gift to will stay nice and warm," she said with a convinced nod. "Happy Christmas, dear."

"Happy Christmas," he answered softly, nodding before exiting the store.

There was a small stand near a charming little cubby with small terrarium filled with miniature plants. One had a delicate green lily in stasis in it, and Severus was reminded of Lily's eyes. He smiled as picked out a gift box for it from the choices, filled out a card, and pulled out a coin to pay for the gift. The stand owner smiled and promised to sent it out in time for Christmas morning, wishing him a happy Christmas. Severus couldn't help but think of all the busy owls on Christmas morning, and mentally reminded himself to get a package of owl nuts and owl treats for all of the winged visitors that would be dropping in the morning of Christmas.

He found a stand that specialised in hand-crafted chocolates, and picked out a few choice morsels for a gift box and sent it off to Remus. After picking up a small gift basket of tropical dried fruits and formal thank you card for both Orion and Walburga Black for allowing him to stay with them over the Christmas holiday, he had them bundled together and arranged to be delivered as well.

Severus realised, with no loss of irony, that this was the first Christmas he had not only multiple friends in which to think about, but also coins in which to pay for gifts for them. He had expected the Black family to be aloof, if not just tolerant of his presence, here he was proving that particular expectation wrong.

Picking up a small gift box from one of the vendors, he wrapped the shining white sand dollar he had stowed in his pocket since he had found it on the shore. He wrapped it carefully in tissue, plucked a card from the display, and wrote carefully on the card.

_Dear Mother,_

_I found this on the beach the other day. I thought you might like it. I hope you are well. I am fine. Please do not worry. Happy Christmas._

_Your son,_

_Severus_

Addressing the envelope with care, he handed the parcel and his payment to the tanned wizard behind the counter.

"Do you need this to go out to arrive on Christmas, young man?" asked the wizard.

"If possible," Severus replied. "But if it would be easier on the owls to go out now and avoid the deadline, that would be okay too."

The man smiled. He nudged the owl sitting on a nearby perch. "Archimedes appreciates you, my young wizard," he said cheerfully. He handed the owl a frog leg and then the parcel. The owl made the food disappear within seconds and then launched off the perch, carrying Severus' parcel aloft and away. Just as the tawny owl left, another owl—a pretty barn owl— landed on the perch and hooted.

"Ahh, welcome back Celeste," the wizard greeted, handing her a frog leg as well. The wizard stroked her breast feathers. "The owls are quite busy this time of year, but I think they enjoy the extra treats they get for working so hard."

Severus nodded.

"Happy Christmas, young man," the wizard said.

"Happy Christmas, sir," Severus replied. He saw the little bowl the man had set out for the owls' benefit. A little sign read: Tips for our feathered friends. All proceeds go to the local post-owls for their extra work this holiday. Severus pulled out a few coins and donated to the bowl.

Celeste hooted at him, flapping her wings.

"Brightest blessings upon you," the wizard chuckled. "I'm sure the owls will agree."

Celeste hooted again, as if to agree.

Severus quirked the corner of his mouth and nodded, heading back to the bookstore to meet back up with Hermione, Regulus, and Orion.

A little stand outside the bookshop caught his attention. There was a small carousel of bookmarks, and one sported a beautiful gold tone relief of a phoenix. It shimmered with a fiery enchantment that casted no heat. Severus fingered it fondly, knowing that Hermione would like it. He pulled out the little coin pouch Orion had given him yet again, wiggling out a few knuts to pay for the bookmark.

Just as he was handing the coins over, a hand reached over and snatched the coin pouch out of his hands.

"What are you buying there, snake?"

"Awww, snake wants to buy himself a bookmark. I bet he's never had one before."

"Give that back, Potter," Severus growled. "You shouldn't take what isn't yours."

"Awww, like you should talk, Ssssnape," James taunted. "This pouch has the mark of the Black family on it. What did you do? Steal it to pay for your Christmas presents?"

Severus' fists clenched as his jaw tightened. "Give it back," he repeated.

"Or you'll what, snivel on me? Oh that's rich. Look, Peter, Snivellus wants his stolen pouch back."

The two Gryffindor laughed as the circled him like sharks.

Severus clenched his teeth and prepared to start getting physical when a shadow passed over the three boys.

Orion Black towered over James Potter and Peter Pettigrew with a mask of fury over his face. Talon-like hands clenched James by the shirt and hoisted him up to face him. "You have something of mine." He extended his other hand out like a skeletal hand. His silver eyes were as cold as ice. "You will return it."

James Potter went white as a sheet as Peter back-peddled into the nearby table. Sirius was running up to his friends just as James placed the stolen pouch into Orion's palm.

"Now," Orion said with a jerk of his arm. "Apologise to your peer who has done nothing to earn your antagonistic spite."

"Snivellus started it!" Peter snarked from by the table, feeling either stupid or brave or equal measures of each.

Orion's glare silenced Peter into a gibbering mess.

"I'm sorry," James muttered, refusing to look Severus in the eyes.

"You're sorry what?" Orion said darkly.

James gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry for accusing you of stealing from Lord Black, Sn…Severus."

Orion released James' shirt and fanned out his fingers as if to fling slime off them.

Both James and Peter gave Severus dirty looks until Orion gave them far worse, his silver gaze flashed with fire.

Both young wizards tore off down the street, and before Sirius could follow, Orion grasped his elder son by the collar. "You shame our name by allowing our honoured guest to be attacked by your friends. You will make restitution for allowing such reprehensible behaviour to take place. Is this the sort of behaviour you wish to set as an example for Regulus?"

"No, Father," Sirius responded.

Orion narrowed his eyes and released his son. "Find your brother and sister and finish up your shopping, Sirius," he said with a low rumbling growl. "Your social time with your friends has come to an end."

Sirius flinched. "Yes, Father," he replied giving a curt nod and he hustled off to find his siblings.

Orion turned his gaze back to Severus who was standing fairly gob-smacked in the middle of the road. Orion's eyes had lost their furious fire. He handed Severus the reclaimed money pouch. "I am aggrieved that this contemptible behaviour is not only threatening my daughter but also you, young Severus. I am more so in that it happens while you are under our care. Please accept my apologies for failing you in this."

Severus shook his head rapidly. "I hold you to no fault, Lord Black," he answered. "This is unfortunately not new behaviour from them. I thank you for… the timely rescue."

Orion took a deep breath. "You are welcome," he said with a sigh. "Come, I am sure Hermione and Regulus wish to share more adventures in the shopping for presents and wish for your shared company."

Severus nodded with a small smile. He went up to the table and purchased the bookmark that had started the entire altercation, and tucked it away in his robe. Task done, he allowed Orion to place his hand on his shoulder and guide him to where Hermione and Regulus were.

When he saw Hermione's brilliant smile and Regulus' corresponding grin, Severus brightened a little despite what had happened. When Hermione engulfed him in a hug that one might expect from someone who hadn't seen the other in years, all of the tension in Severus' body drained away. All was well again, and he was perfectly happy with that.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

To Mister and Missus Potter of the House of Potter, I, Lord Orion Black, of the House of Black send greetings.

It is with regret that I send you this letter so close to the Christmas Holiday, and I beg your indulgence in this matter at hand in order to inform you of an altercation that occurred while I and my children were spending our time at the Wizarding Beach in the Bahamas.

During this winter holiday, our family is also hosting a friend of my eldest daughter, and there was a misunderstanding between our guest and your son that perhaps our guest had acquired a pouch of funds emblazoned with our family seal through dishonesty. I can assure you, Sir and Madam, that our guest was completely in the right both with his purchases and use of the coins. The accusation was false. I fear that our guest's honour may have been insulted by these accusations, and I pray you understand that such accusations to our guest also reflect upon our families in poor light.

It is my hope that, in mutual understanding, your son is made aware such transgressions in the future will not be looked upon with the same tolerance, as we both know that it is our duty to protect the honour of our guests as our own, and that is a lesson I am sure your son would wish to be appraised of in the hopes such horrible misunderstandings do not occur in the future.

My apologies, again, for the timing of this letter during a holiday as significant as Christmas. Please accept my sincere wishes for a Happy Christmas for you and your family during this time.

Sincerely,

Lord Orion Black (his seal, the belt of Orion)

(seal of the House of Black)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

-o-o-*HOWLER*-o-o-

James,

You will return home this instant, James Potter. It was my understanding that you would be staying at your friend Peter Pettigrew's home until Christmas, and imagine my surprise when I contacted both Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew and discovered that Peter was supposed to be staying with us for the holiday.

It has been brought to my attention that you both were seen down in Wizarding Bahamas of all places, unsupervised, and causing quite a stir on the streets in front of countless witches and wizards and shoppes. And to make matters worse, you managed to insult members of and honoured guests of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, one of the oldest Wizarding families known. It couldn't have been more embarrassing to our family if you bit your thumb in public to Abraxas Malfoy and called him a Muggle.

I'm not sure were you got the idea that lying to us as to where you were going this holiday and taking money without permission from your father's office got planted in your head, but you will come straight home this instant, and you will tell your friend to return home to his parents as well, as they have been well informed by me as to how he was never staying with us to begin with!

Rest assured, if this is they way you are going to abuse our allowing you to have more freedom, you will be spending the rest of your holidays at Hogwarts.

(undecipherable and angry signature) (seal of the House of Potter)

-o-o-*HOWLER* (bursts into flames)-o-o-

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**A/N:** I figured Orion would not put anything about the "attack" on Hermione in his letter because technically he had no proof. The attack on Severus, however, was nicely witnessed by "all the people."

I know a lot of people use Charlus and Dorea as James' parents, but there seems to be a bit of a hole and hazy area in regards to who Mr. and Mrs. Potter were, so I left them as "Mr. and Mrs. Potter." Also, Dorea was decidedly Slytherin, so unless James was either a hypocrite about hating all Slytherin or just plain barmy, I'm not sure where his prejudice would have come from (though, perhaps, that could be a story in itself for Jame's background… I dunno.)

I'm going to bed. Sorry for blatant typos. Zzzz.


	16. Christmas Day

_"What you did could have been dangerous."_

_"I took your mother."_

_"Which is dangerous in its own way."_

_-Rizzoli &amp; Isles_

**Chapter 16: Christmas Day**

Severus woke to a bouncing on his duvet.

"Sev…Sev…Sevvveerrusss!" and excited voice was chanting as the bouncing on top of him was getting impossible to ignore.

"Wakkkeeee up big brotherrrrrr!" Regulus shook him out of his is sound, or at least had been sound, sleep.

Severus looked blearily into the dark of the room. Regulus was staring at him with excitement.

"It's Christmas day! Get up!" Regulus kept shaking him.

Never in his life had Severus ever been so excited on any given day to wake up with the enthusiasm that Hermione's little brother was showing.

Grunting, he slung his arm around Regulus and pinned him in an embrace against him, smothering him.

Regulus wriggled and sputtered, freeing himself, grabbed the duvet and pulled it off Severus, exposing him to the cold of the room.

"Argh!" Severus said as the cold hit him, yanking the covers back over himself. "It's freezing."

Regulus looked at him with a pleading look.

Severus answered with a freezing glare of his own, but apparently he needed more practice because Regulus just gave him a lip quiver and wider eyes. Severus sighed. "Get my robe, would you please?"

Regulus grinned and handed him his robe, which he had miraculously already had in preparation. Cheeky little bugger.

He'd barely managed to get on his slippers when Regulus dragged him down the hallway by the sleeve.

The Christmas tree was glowing with magical light orbs of different colours, casting the living room in a soft glow. There were no other lights in the room, but it did not require any to see the glorious spectacle of light and the piling of presents under the Christmas tree.

Sagacity hooted from his perch by the tree, and his perch was decorated in lights and ivy. The owl himself was sporting a small owlish green Santa hat, and what was strangest of all, the owl looked good in it.

"Regulus, my son," Orion's sleepy voice intoned as he shuffled into the room. "You greet the dawn like the lark, and I am not sure whose mutant child you are, because it was definitely not my genetics."

Regulus glued himself to his father's waist, staring up at him as his father sleepily stroked his beard.

"Do not blame his early morning antics on me, husband," Walburga sniffed, her voice full of sleepiness. "Whatever causes the boy to leap around like that in the morning is assuredly not my fault."

Orion shook his head, ruffling Regulus on the head. "I blame the milk man," Orion said, causing his wife to sputter incoherently.

Regulus frowned, not quite putting the equation together, but shrugged and decided it wasn't worth the effort when so many presents were demanding to be pilfered through. He affixed himself to his mother's waist in his playfulness, and while the matron of the house scowled at him, there was no heat behind it.

"I see your sister and brother are doing what the rest of us should be doing like decent human beings," Walburga sniffed. "We should go back to bed and return to this ritual when everyone is awake.

Regulus, who absolutely refused to let his two blood siblings to get the better of him on Christmas, ran down the corridor to their rooms, where the sound of groaning and pillow throwing happened soon after.

Severus shifted his weight awkwardly from the two elder Blacks. "Good morning, Lord and Lady Black," he greeted, bowing slightly.

"None of that now, young Severus," Orion said. "You are our guest, not our supplicant. You may treat us as our brood does, however, I'm sure my darling wife would prefer you not squeeze the life out of her like my dear Regulus is prone to do."

Severus blushed, and Walburga sputtered, attempting to look dignified—a difficult feat at such an early hour.

Regulus came back, herding his brother out in front of him like a sheepdog to the rear end of a wooly mammal, and Orion guffawed at the sight.

"Severus, I can't get Hermione up," Regulus complained. "She did something to the bed so I couldn't jump on her."

Severus lifted a brow.

"Please, big brother," Regulus begged. "The presents are waiting!"

Severus licked his lips and sniffed, silently walking down the corridor in a manner that tortured poor Regulus with the slowness of his gate.

Orion snagged his youngest by the collar. "Kreacher! Coffee and tea if you would please."

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Severus slipped into Hermione's room after knocking on her door.

Hermione grunted from under her duvet, pulling it over herself with a groan.

"Hermione," Severus said softly. "Your family is waiting for you in the living room."

Unintelligible mutterings came from under the duvet.

Severus approached the bed, holding his hands out to reach the barrier that Regulus spoke of, but to his surprise his hands met with nothing. He sat on the side of the bed awkwardly. "Aren't birds supposed to be up at the crack of dawn with a song in their hearts?"

"I'm an owl," she muttered. "It's bed time."

"You are a horrible liar in the morning," Severus grunted, tugging on the fluffy down stuffed duvet.

As he pulled the duvet back, however, her arm shot out with the speed of a serpent and pulled him down with her on the bed with startled and undignified as well as unmasculine squeak.

Hermione pulled him half under the covers, and the warmth from within was intoxicating in its appeal, and Severus wanted nothing more than to let it carry him back into sleep.

Alas, it was not to be. No sooner than his eyes drifted shut in the pleasant comforting warmth, then Regulus returned and pulled the duvet off them both. "Come on!" he complained. "Get up! It's Christmas! Don't you want your presents?"

Hermione chattered her teeth and grabbed for the nearby robe, pulling it around herself. "You're insufferable," she snapped at her brother.

"You're a morning slug, sis!" Regulus whined. "And you corrupted big brother. I sent him in to wake you up, not fall asleep too!"

"I was comfortable," Hermione growled, brushing her hair with the brush on the bed stand.

"Even Sirius is up before you!" Regulus pouted, making it sound like an insult to her heritage,

Hermione rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

"Come on," Regulus tugged on her sleeve. "I won't ask anything of you for the rest of the year!"

Hermione raised a brow. "Six whole days. However will you manage?"

Regulus got behind her and pushed her out of the bed like a steam plough.

"All right, all right," Hermione complained. "Unhand me you foul creature of the Light!" She brushed her hands over her night gown and sighed, walking out the door and down the corridor.

Regulus gave a whoop of joy and scampered down the corridor, knocking Severus to the side in his enthusiasm.

Hermione's hand touched his shoulder and she shook her head at him with amusement. "Hung be the heavens with black," she quoted sleepily.

"Yield day to night," Severus finished the quote with a small snort of air.

"Time to make an appearance in the living room before we both go the way of King Henry VI," Hermione chuckled.

As Hermione's hand closed around his and drew him with her down the hallway, Severus noticed with growing sense that his world was being rewritten. The warmth of her smile and the genuine want of his companionship travelled up his arm and directly into chest. He followed her willingly, and a small part of him seemed to promise him it would not be the last.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Severus sat with a large cup of tea and a plate of cookies and fruitcake for breakfast and wasn't arguing in the slightest. The Black family was gathered around the Christmas tree with a slightly more caffeinated alertness.

Everyone seemed to defer to Regulus to get to open the first of his presents, since it was, technically, his fault that everyone was awake. Regulus wasn't complaining and he tore into the first parcel with abandon, sending pieces of wrapping paper flying in all directions.

Regulus squealed in delight as he set his eyes on what was inside: a young fanged geranium. "It's gorgeous, sis!" he gushed, setting it down only long enough to tackle his sleepy sister with a hug. "How did you know I was interested in herbology?"

Hermione averted her eyes. "Little birds, and all that."

Regulus grinned and snatched the package from under the tree for her.

Hermione eyed it suspiciously. She plucked the card off to the front. "You and Severus?"

Regulus grinned and Severus blushed.

Hermione set down the card and opened the package with all the care Regulus had not used on his. By the time she was done, the paper was perfectly folded beside her, looking like it could be used to wrap something else. She fingered the leather binding of the book in front of her. Myth as Reality: A Study of the Beasts Muggles Think Don't Exist. Her face lit up. "You both are beyond wonderful, thank you so much!" She return tackled her younger brother and drew Severus into the mix, loving on them both.

"Might take you all of twenty minutes to read it, sis," Sirius ribbed her.

"Psh, Canis," Hermione scoffed, shoving a bundle into his arms. "I got you a dog bone."

"Awww, you shouldn't have!" Sirius snickered at her. He tore into his package with the same disregard as Regulus. "Waaaaaaaaaaaa! A build you own balista kit! You are the best sister ever!"

Hermione, now tackled to the floor, wriggled under the force of her brother's affection.

Orion reached over the wriggling pile of his progeny and plugged a bundle out from the tree and handed it to Severus. "A little something from us stuffy old people," Orion said with a quirk of his lips. Walburga harrumphed, averting her eyes as though she didn't care.

Severus, taking Walburga feigned lack of concern over the response he would get from his own biological father on Christmas, slowly opened the package.

He touched the top of the book he revealed in disbelief._ Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion Making, Second Edition._ It was completely new and in pristine condition. As he pulled it out of the wrapping paper, the pages crackled with newness, the smell of printed parchment was distinctive. He leafed through the book. Complex formulae covered every page with equally challenging instructions and tips. "Thank you," he said reverently.

"We heard you are a budding potioneer, young Severus," Orion said with a warm smile. "I hope the book helps you on your journey to become a master."

Severus clutched the book to his chest. "It will."

Regulus pulled out a bundle from under the tree and pushed it into his mother's hands.

Severus gulped, realising it was his gift to the Hermione's parents.

Walburga sniffed, putting her bony finger under the paper edges and carefully undoing the wrapping. It wasn't too hard to figure out which child had taken after Walburga's unwrapping habits. The matron placed the paper aside and undid the latch on the lacquered box. Lifting the lid, she stared inside, the assortment of dried fruits, preserves, spices, and confections filled the inside. "Lemon curd and blackcurrant preserves," Walburga commented. "Thoughtful, child. I thank you for your gift."

Severus let out the breath he had been holding and nodded happily. "You are welcome."

The gift exchanges went round and round. Hermione had gifted him a beautiful leather bound journal with handmade cold-pressed pages. Regulus had complemented the gift with an elegant quill and ink set. Severus felt that he was on top of the world. Never had he received such thoughtful gifts.

His mother, though she loved him dearly, preferred to give him practical gifts such as clothes over things he truly wanted. He could not fault her for that priority. Showing up to school without clothes would be infinitely more embarrassing. There were times when Severus suspected that his mother was sitting on a connection to her Prince family roots, including the vaults, but if she did have an inheritance, she was very Slytherin in the way she concealed it. She never purchased anything that seemed out of the ordinary for what her husband Tobias made with his paltry Muggle job. Yet, she always had just enough to be sure he had enough for school, despite his father's tendency to drink up whatever money he made.

He wondered if his mother got his Christmas gift. Hopefully the owl managed to sneak it to her past his father's tendency to take whatever his wife had as his own or breaking them against the wall if they did meet with his approval.

Suddenly, Hermione's hand was on his, squeezing it gently. Her grey eyes flickered with a warmth that seemed like flames reflected in gloss of her corneas. "Happy Christmas, Severus," she said with a smile.

Thoughts of his father were driven away by the power of her smile. He smiled, a little at first, but then it slowly expanded like a flower opening to the sun. "Happy Christmas, Hermione," he replied.

Regulus whooped in joy as he opened Severus' gift to him. He stood up and put the cloak on and tried to squeeze the life out of Severus.

Severus was rescued by Orion, who extracted his youngest son from suffocating his house guest. "Now, now, my son. You should be owling your grandfather and grandmother a thank you for their generous gifts."

"Yes, father," Regulus said pulling the cloak around him and retreating to his room with his armful of presents.

"What did Remus get you, Severus?" Hermione asked, peeking into his pile of loot.

Severus furrowed his brows, opening the box for Hermione to see.

"Chocolate?" Hermione laughed. "Oh, Remus. He buys gifts he wants for others."

Severus shrugged. "At least it looks… non fatal to eat. Unlike my great aunts attempts at baking."

Hermione sputtered and grinned. "Remus sent me chocolate too," she said with chuckle. "See? All of them are shaped like birds."

"You have birds… in a basket," Severus said, staring into the candy basket.

"Mhmm," Hermione chuckled. "Envious?"

"Hnn," Severus replied. "Trade you a truffle for a bird?"

"Done!" Hermione said, handing him the basket to pick out a bird.

Severus picked out one of the truffles and handed it to Hermione.

She grinned at him, tearing into the foil wrapping before taking a bite out of the truffle. Her eyes rolled back in her head. "Remus is forgiven. His taste in chocolate is divine."

Severus surreptitiously bit the head off the chocolate bird and chewed. "You are correct. I owe him a thank you note."

Hermione grinned.

Sirius was gathering up his multiple gifts that apparently included ones from his Gryffindor friends. He hid them under his other gifts less than inconspicuously and hustled off to his room.

"Do not forget your thank you notes, my son," Orion said sternly.

Sirius sighed. "Yes, father," he said, hustling back to his room.

Hermione and Severus sprawled out on the living room floor, writing their thank you notes to everyone. Sagacity hooted curiously as she literally gave the poor bird and their family bird a few letters going out, and each of the owls came back half covered in snow.

Severus and Hermione took turns feeding the owls extra treats for their efforts. After Sagacity returned with letters from Remus for both Hermione and Severus, the two grinned at each other, their monumental task of thanking "all those that needed to be thanked" was finally done.

It was well past lunch when all the letters going in and out finally died down, and Sagacity and Black family owl, whom Severus learned was named Dustcatcher, or Dust for short, settled on their perches with tired hoots.

Sagacity, however, was not as content as his fellow to sit around and gather wool, and instead decided to seek the attention of his mistress and Severus, alternating between them for scritches, cuddles, and wing rubs.

Denebola, keeping to his Kneazle heritage, set about batting around all the left over wrapping paper and making a mess of the package ribbons until the animal was completely covered and tangled in them.

Severus wasn't sure what was more amusing, the Kneazle having tangled himself in a bunch of ribbon, or Orion trying to untangle his Kneazle out of the ribbon. One freed, Denebola strutted from the ribbon as if to shun it for offending him.

"Dustcatcher?" Severus asked, rubbing Sagacity on the breast with his fingers.

"Father wasn't creative with his name when we got him," Hermione confessed. "He was just 'that owl' for the longest time. Mother once yelled at him to at least dust him off every so often so he didn't look like a badly kept knick knack. His name was, since then, Dustcatcher. I think papa waits for that sort of thing to happen just so he can name things oddly."

Severus chortled. "I could see that."

Hermione flipped through the book they had given her for Christmas. She tapped the paragraph in the book. "Severus, look," she said, pointing to the list of plants associated with werewolves.

Severus pulled the book closer to him, his brows furrowing.

"If those plants are affiliated with the moon," Hermione said. "Maybe we could balance the efficacy of the potion by how we prepare the herbs. If we charge the ingredients. Maybe leave them out in the sun or the moonlight to dry before we prepare them. That way, when we add them to the potion it would have the maximum level of effectiveness."

Severus pulled out his notebook and made use of the new quill and ink he had received for Christmas, scrawling a few notes on the page. "It's possible," he said after a few minutes. "It could make the potion more stable because if we always charged the ingredients each time we made it, it would guarantee that they had the same energy level to them."

Hermione flipped through the book and found a list of plants with solar affinity. She shared the page with Severus, writing her own notes next to his with a few arithmancy balancing equations. "We'll have to find a place to charge up our ingredients while we are drying them."

Severus nodded.

Hermione froze, her brows furrowing. "Severus, when is the next full moon?"

Severus frowned. "The last one was from the first through the third of this month."

Hermione tapped her fingers, making the calculations in her head. "Next three moon days would be… next Thursday through Saturday. The 30th, 31st, and the 1st of January."

"We're not due back to Hogwarts until that weekend of the first. Classes start again on the third," Severus said.

Hermione looked worried. "Tuft will be alone on the first day, even if we return on that Friday."

Severus frowned. "Remus isn't going to be in good shape. He'll attack himself."

Hermione rushed over to the writing desk and snapped up a piece of parchment and flopped down next to Severus, dipped her quill into the inkwell, and began to write in a flurry.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Dear Apprentice Black,

Thank you kindly for the wonderful Christmas gift. It was very thoughtful of you, and I will be sure to make use of them in my latest rune project.

After much discussion with Headmaster Dumbledore, both you and Mr. Snape will be authorised to return early to Hogwarts and work on your potions project. Miss Evans, I believe, is currently taking her holiday out of the country this year, so she will not be joining you until later when the Hogwarts Express brings in the rest of the students on Sunday.

You may arrive at any time during the week before and check in with me. The gates will be warded to expect your arrival and let you through. Professor Slughorn has agreed to open the Potions Laboratory for your combined study and work on your project. Since he is staying here at Hogwarts over the holiday, you will need only contact him at his office to have him open it for you.

As always, if you require in assistance from me for the purposes of your project, you need only ask.

I hope you are having a wonderful Christmas holiday with your family and friends. I will look forward to seeing you some time next week.

Sincerely,

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

(seal of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Remus shivered as he readied himself for the upcoming change. He dreaded it. For the first time in months, he would be facing it alone. His inner wolf, as at peace as he had become with it in the company of Hermione and Severus, seemed extra restless.

Remus smelled the old scent of his friends on the quilt and pillows of the four poster bed they shared on his moon nights. He tried to gain comfort from it, but without their actual presence, Tuft was pacing inside his mind like it was a cage. If they weren't here with him, he should be out there, somewhere, with them, not locked up in some place that was just another kind of cage when they weren't around.

Remus winced, a ripple of pain hinted on the what was coming, and he dreaded it. Every time he had changed with his friends near, the pain hadn't seem as bad. It had been a gradual thing, and a part of him thought it had everything to do with how close they had become to his inner wolf. They were not just friends to Remus the boy. They were pack to Tuft the wolf. They were essential to his equation. They were his Home.

Tuft seemed to realise that Remus was keeping something from him, and the wolf did not like it at all. Another ripple of pain went down his spine, echoing the old pain from before he had become friends with the two enigmatic Slytherin that had been by his side long enough that he felt their absence keenly during the Winter break.

His family had let him come home for the week of Christmas, but they knew he was going to turn, so they brought him back to Hogwarts. He couldn't blame them really. Dumbledore had insisted that he would be safe here in this house he had constructed for him.

Agony.

He felt his jaw clench as his teeth felt too large for his mouth. His jaw was extending outward as the skin of his face was pulling around the reformed bones of his face. He whimpered to himself.

Alone. So alone.

Remus heard his spine popping as his body was forced into a hunched position. The change was like it had been before Hogwarts—slow and agonising.

Tuft was howling inside his head, and he felt the sound growing in his throat.

There was a scraping sound from somewhere and a fluttering, but Remus was too lost to the pain.

Remus cried out, half animal and half boy, his voice caught in between as he was caught in between. He wished he could just die. Then the pain would stop.

Suddenly, two warm bundles of feathers were in his arms, wriggling under his half changed limbs. Their scents and their warmth were unmistakable.

Remus caught his breath as Tuft stilled inside his mind. Joy filled his heart. Home. Pack. Friends. Peace!

Remus' arms pulled the two birds to him as his body continued its change, but now it was coming quickly as if to spare him the pain by accelerating. Fur sprouted over his body in waves of grey. His legs pumped, realigned, reshaped. His tail burst from the base of his spine and sprouted fur rapidly into the distinctive tuft. His head shuddered as his ears twisted into funnels, moving upwards to his head, sprouting their own fuzzy fur. His muzzle pushed outward as his teeth clenched together just before his muzzle opened and his long tongue lolled outward. His hands fused into paws, claws and pads forming. Dark black claws erupted from his toes as his spine finished realigning, lengthening, and twisted into the new position.

Tuft whined softly, snuggling into "his" birds, tail thumping against the bed.

Hermione nipped at his chin.

Tuft covered her head with his mouth, surrounding her head in his pearlescent fangs. His tongue slurped her feathers as he pulled away, leaving Hermione dripping with copious werewolf drool.

Severus tugged on his tail.

Tuft snapped at him, turning around, wagging his tail, and play bowing. He let out a woof like hound.

Severus hopped onto the werewolf's back and clung to him, and the werewolf sprung up and tore out of the room, up the stairs, and into one of the other rooms.

Hermione cocked her head, listening to the scramble of claws on the wooden floors as Severus played jockey on the werewolf's back.

After a few minutes, the werewolf came scrambling back down the stairs, eagle on his back, and skidded to a halt to stare at the bookshelf that Hermione had perched herself on.

Severus flew back over to the bed, and attempted to preen his feathers of the coating of werewolf drool.

Tuft whined up at Hermione, but Hermione did her best Kneazle impression and turned her head to ignore him.

Tuft gave a few short whines, calling to her as if to apologise for excluding her from the fun, but Hermione continued to stay out of reach and with her body turned away from him.

Tuft put his front paws on the bookshelf and woofed lowly, tail wagging hopefully.

Slowly, his tail slowed and he hung his head, ears pinned to the side as he seemed to realise he had committed some sort of crime against the phoenix that he had no idea what it was.

Tuft whined, tucking his tail between his legs as he left the bookshelf.

Then, just as he moved maybe a foot away, Hermione landed on his back and rapped him between the ears with the bottom of her beak, and Tuft yipped and attempted to snap at her.

Hermione flew out of the room and up the stairs, and the werewolf tore after her. Just as he was about to catch up, Hermione would zoom off to another place, leading the werewolf on a merry chase around the house from room to room, from closet to closet, and from wardrobe to wardrobe, until at last Hermione landed back on the four poster bed with Severus. Tuft leapt up onto the mattress and collapsed on his side, panting hard.

Exhausted, but not through, Tuft closed his mouth around the phoenix's wings and pulled her beside him, grooming her with his tongue until her feathers were every which way. He bathed her until werewolf slobber dripped from her beak, and then placed her next to his belly and dragged Severus to him to give him the same treatment.

Two somewhat spherical looking birds were the result of Tuft's dutiful licking, and the werewolf seemed utterly proud of himself. He wrapped himself around his birds, tucking his tufted tail around them and curling his head around from the other way, snuffling them closer as he closed his eyes to sleep.

The phoenix ball and the eagle ball eyed each other, snuggled in close to each other, and laid their beaks over each other's backs, letting their combined warmth drag them into sleep as one more cord of invisible magic bound the trio even more irrevocably together.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**A/N:** And, like our trio, I must sleep. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	17. 1972 Winter Birthdays Unto Spring

"_You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough." _

_-Frank Crane_

**Chapter 17: Winter Birthdays Prelude to Spring**

_Sunday, January 9th, 1972, Moon Last Quarter_

There was a giant cake in the middle of the Slytherin Common Room. Silvery white icing covered the emerald green cake within. Large goblets of juice and fizzy drinks were laid out for all comers, and were a number of various gift boxes laying in a pile by a very baffled looking Severus Snape.

"Happy Birthday, Severus!" his fellow Slytherin cheered, toasting him with their pumpkin juice and giving him wide grins.

Slytherin spared no expense when it came to coughing up for a celebration, and birthdays were always a good cause for celebration.

Severus was looking quite baffled as he sat at the head of the table surrounded in small gifts.

"Happy twelve solar rotations, my friend," Lucius purred, placing his hand on his shoulder. It was a very calculated gesture, Severus knew. It both offered protection and asked for formal acceptance, and Severus knew that, much like the protection of Hermione Black, there would be no one in Slytherin that did not notice the offer. Lucius was saying that he not only supported Hermione's judgement, but added his own to the mix. It was high praise for once such as Severus, and he did not miss the significance.

Severus placed his opposing hand over Lucius' and nodded to him, inclining his head ever so slightly in deference to the Slytherin Prince. Then, just as subtle as it began, Lucius gave a curt not, and passed him the first of his presents.

Most of the gifts were pretty generic. Candy, toys, and amusing little tools such an unbreakable ink pots, bendable quills, erasable parchments, self heating socks, charmed warming throw blankets, and even enchanted lint brushes for the inevitable days when someone would expect you to show up at the Headmaster's office and your black school robes were covered in your dorm mate's familiar's cat fur.

He thanked everyone for their kindness, and then the room exploded with action as everyone partook of the cake and refreshments. Severus had a few pats on the back, hand shakes, and even scored a few hugs, which caused Severus' face to flush a nice crimson. By the time everything had died down and he had lugged his large pile of spoils to his area in the dormitory, he spotted the wrapped bundle on his mattress.

Piling up the presents on his writing desk, he sat down on the bed and pulled the lone wrapped gift into his lap. A small card was tied to the ribbon bow.

_Happy Birthday, Severus!_

_Your friends,_

_Hermione, Lucius, Remus, Lily, &amp; Regulus_

Severus unfastened the intricate bows holding the bundle together and tugged them free. The coloured paper fell away from what looked like a shapeless mass of cloth.

He pulled it free of the paper and gasped.

His hand touched the ornate cloak clasp of the silver serpent with ruby red eyes that marked the travelling cloak he had so much wanted as his own. Dark emerald silk lined the inside of the cloak, and fine silver embroidery marked the edges of the cloak. It was beyond beautiful, and it was his.

He noticed it was large enough for a full grown man, far too large for him, but he put it on anyway, thinking that it didn't matter if he couldn't fit in it now, he would grow into it eventually. No sooner than the cloak was fastened, it resized itself around his body, fitting him as though it had been tailored for him alone.

Feeling a bit like Regulus, he pulled the cloak around him and across his chest, closing his eyes as the warmth of it comforted him. He suddenly understood why Regulus would just run around the Black estate with his Slytherin scarf on and refuse to take it off.

Severus pulled the cloak around himself and closed his eyes. One more drop of the bitterness he had held in his heart fell away.

He looked at the parchment where his friends had signed his birthday greeting and smiled.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

**March 7th, 1972, Moon Last Quarter**

Hermione, Severus, and Remus sat together in a small circle, legs crossed, and their bodies in lotus position. Their eyes were closed as whispers of their magic wove in and out from each others like fibres in a tapestry.

The sight of the three sitting together, however, was not anything new. Students had begun to see them inseparable, and while some may have questioned if the Slytherins were just stringing along the Gryffindor boy, all such beliefs were squashed with the ferocity in which they protected the shier Remus from being picked on.

Their dynamic shifted, depending on Lily joining them, and none of them seemed uncomfortable when she did, however, the rate in which she spend with her "fellow girls" was not unnoticed.

Hermione had chuckled when Severus and Remus wondered if they had done something odd to drive the red-haired witch away, but she had assured him that it was she that was the freak that preferred the company of them to the company of females. She had grown up with brothers. In the life she had once called her own, she was the female in a friendship with Harry and Ron, and it seemed there were going to be odd similarities no matter how much she tried to make it otherwise. Both Severus and Remus seemed to agree they could not see her hanging around with Narcissa and discuss social politics and fashion, hair care, and the hundred and one ways to have colour coordinated shoes.

If anything, it was Severus that experienced the awkwardness when Lily returned or left, depending on what whim she desired. She would always return and throw her arm around him like she'd missed him terribly, and then, just as suddenly, she would wander off to join the girls by the lake. Thanks to his friends in Remus and Hermione, however, Severus didn't wallow so much in Lily's whimsy and ephemeral presence.

The sight of a silver tabby cat sitting in the middle of the circle, however, was a new addition to the group's dynamic. The animagus watched the trio as they meditated, swatted one or the other on the knee when their magic or concentration faltered, and shared her own stable magic to guide theirs into form.

It hadn't taken Minerva long to realise that her Apprentice and her friends had engaged in a bit of extracurricular learning beyond the scope of their potions project, but, much to their surprise, she took them all under wing.

"Becoming an animagus can be a dangerous task without guidance," she said as she interrupted their communion in the laboratory one afternoon. "If you are determined to learn the skill together, then I will assist you to do it right. I do not wish any of you to go behind my back and do it anyway if I were to tell you not to and end up like some of my old colleagues."

Hermione wondered if the elder animagus suspected the reason they wanted to be animagi. Minerva was no idiot, and her razor keen senses were hardly dulled due to lack of use or practice. There were times when Hermione wondered if Minerva kept a the appearance of being less so like a Slytherin kept their cards close to their body. The less others knew of her true skill and power, the more likely they would underestimate her. That, Hermione knew well, was the difference between success and failure when unforgiveables were being flung at your face in combat.

Hermione's suspicions became solidified when Minerva had scheduled a session with her that happened to be on the night of Remus' moon nights, and the animagus had said, "Oh, well. Silly me. We can't have you there that night. How about, hrm, the night before that. Wouldn't want to break up your regularly scheduled bingo nights, now would we?"

Bingo nights indeed.

Apparently, not only did Minerva know exactly what Remus was, but she was also fully aware that werewolves paid no mind to animagi. Teaching them how to become one was just good sense. She was protecting both her Gryffindor cub and her adopted snakes in the best way possible: teaching them to be safe themselves.

Minerva had always been a warm place in Hermione's life, especially after the war. Their bond had been nothing but strong, and even the Apprentice bond aside, they had equally strong ties that had nothing to do with being Master and Apprentice and everything to do with being more like mother and daughter.

Hermione realised that Minerva was still so much like her older self. Brave, intelligent, compassionate, and fierce. She was truly the lion of Gryffindor, and while Hermione was no longer of her House, the elder witch had claimed her as her own, and no one stood between Minerva McGonagall and what was hers, not even Albus Dumbledore.

The elder wizard, however, seemed to keep his nose out of Minerva's business. Whether it was because he knew what she was up to or simply didn't think it important enough to meddle, none of them were sure. Hermione always remembered him to be the sort to inject him into things that he deemed important, and she doubted his personality was so different.

Perhaps, much like many, he underestimated the friendship between the two enigmatic snakes and one lone lion cub. He obviously underestimated Minerva in a few key areas, despite his trust in her. She wondered, at times, just how much Albus Dumbledore was distracted with the preoccupation of foiling Tom Riddle, even so early in the timeline. He couldn't not know the threat the man who became a Dark Lord was.

Hermione knew from keeping track of the news that the Muggle murders and Wizarding killings had not started yet. In fact, even in the Slytherin House, there was very little if any talk of Pure-blood supremacy. There was the respect for those who were and adherence to manners and the like, but even Lucius Malfoy, the future prince of Pureblood supremacy seemed perfectly fine with Hermione's protection of both Severus and Remus. He, like her father, called them her chevaliers. He approved of them, and while he never came out and said it, anyone who stood beside Hermione Ankaa Black and defended her honour was worthy of its own respect.

Lucius was, oddly enough, the only one who could pluck Hermione from her group of friends and escort her on walks along the lake without causing a disturbance between the three. He would come, gliding in like his feet were on clouds, take her by the arm, and walk for hours with her down by the lake. No one disturbed them. There were those that inherently knew better, and those that would not dare stand up to the reigning Prince of Slytherin and who he deigned worthy of his attention.

He would return her to her knights' sides, kiss the top of her hand with accustomed grace, and float off to whatever business he had been avoiding in order to spend time with her.

When questioned by her friends, Hermione simply said, "I think he's lonely. He's surrounded in people. Surrounded in sycophants and supplicants, really, but they are not people he can just have a walk with by the lake. Do you know what I mean?"

It was Severus who nodded first. "I think I do understand."

"You can be so very alone surrounded by people," Remus said with a haunted tone.

Hermione touched Remus on the arm. "You're not alone anymore, my dear Remus. You will never be again, am I clear?"

"Crystal, my Lady," Remus said, his voice reigned into something almost formal. I ghost of Tuft's tail beat on the ground in appeasement.

Hermione snorted, somewhat unladylike, but nodded to him. "Good." For a moment her tilt of head and tone of voice echoed her mother Walburga. It was the tone that accepted no refusal and did not yield. Then, much like the shift in the wind, Hermione's posture was warm again, accepting as it always seemed to be in regards to her friends, and the fire that danced in her eyes was far from the burning of her anger.

And now, as the trio and a certain tabby cat sat in the spring sun together, it seemed that nothing could possibly be more normal. No one even seemed to notice that sometimes, after a long day, the silver tabby cat curled up in Severus' lap and purred, allowing him to draw his hand across her silken fur as her eyes drifted shut.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**20th of June, 2009, Evening, Moon Waning Crescent**

Harry wasn't sure what he expected when he entered Hermione's quarters, but he felt like he had entered one part Malfoy Manor, one part Grimmauld Place, one part Potions Laboratory, and one part of Hogwarts library.

Harry had, to be fair, never entered the private quarters of one of his professors, save one—the impostor Alastor Moody, so a part of him did not know what to expect. And here, some almost twenty years after the start of his career at Hogwarts, this was the first time he saw into the "private" life of the professors of Hogwarts.

Now, if he could get over the fact that his best friend who was, until recently, his age, was now completely a different person and different age.

"Harry," Hermione greeted. It was the same voice he was used to. The same warmth he remembered. But her eyes… her eyes were a pale grey that minded him of Draco Malfoy. That was a bit creepy in and of itself.

Hermione was wearing her teaching robes, and it was slightly disturbing to see the emerald and silver dominating her wardrobe. She had a silver hair comb and ribbons in her hair that made her look quite dignified. The image of her looking so Slytherin, however, unnerved Harry. She had always been… so Gryffindor.

"Come in, come in," she said, beckoning him in. "Remus is almost done burning the lasagna," she chuckled.

"I heard that, love," Remus' voice called from the kitchen.

"Muffle those wolf ears of yours, Tuft!" Hermione snapped, grinning at Harry with a wink.

"I'll muffle them when you stop burning when your students turn themselves into birdcages during class!" came his retort.

"Pish," Hermione. "Maybe when you stop trying to shed all over out new living room rug, mangy beast!"

"Someone had to mark it ours, you infuriating woman!" Remus' voice came. "I didn't see you volunteering!"

Harry blinked.

Hermione laughed. "Harry, sit down. Your eyes are bugging out of your skull."

Harry sat down, putting his hands in his lap like he was afraid to touch anything.

Tea appeared in front of him, and he drank it down in one gulp, staring at the bottom as if he expected the Grim to show up in the bottom.

The entry portal rustled, and Snape entered, his dark robes swirled around him with their typical flare. Harry found it comforting, in many ways. Snape, it seemed, had the same dour expression, piercing black eyes, and mismanaged hair that had become synonymous with the name Snape.

"Severus," Hermione greeted warmly, taking the bottle of wine he was carrying in his hand. She wrapped her arm around his waist and went on her tip toes, and the tall Dark wizard met her with a kiss, his pale hand wove into her dark hair as she grinned into his face. "Class go well?" She asked, pulling away from him in a fluid motion, natural from repetitive practice. The warmth in her eyes was undeniable, but they were reflected in Severus' own.

"Nothing…fatal to report," the Dark wizard said with a sniff. His black eyes narrowed, flicking from Harry to Hermione and then the kitchen.

Harry fidgeted with his awkwardness. There were a hundred different reactions he could have had to finding out that his old Potions Professor had a private life. Mixing that in with his once best friend, well, shocking was a word that didn't quite fill the bill.

"I see you found your way to our chambers without getting lost, Mr. Potter," Severus said in the voice that was reassuring in how detached it was. It was almost enough to snap him out of his shock and dismiss what he had just seen as some very bad hangover hallucination.

Hermione was staring at the bottle of wine. "You went all the way to the border for this? No wonder you were almost late."

"I am a wizard, not a snail, Hermione," Severus scoffed at her. Removing his outer robe and hanging it on the nearby cloak stand. He moved his shoulders as if to relax them, turning his neck to get the kinks out.

Hermione grinned and placed the bottle on the table with the rest of the table settings. "It's perfect, Severus," she said with a grin. "Thank you for getting it."

There was a knock at the door, and Severus waved his hand and the portal door opened, allowing whoever it was to come in. "Enter," he grunted, moving off to the kitchen.

A distinctive head of blond hair came rounding the corner of the entryway, and Harry was practically up in arms with his wand out. "Malfoy!" he hissed.

"You gone round the bend, mate?" Draco arched a brow at him. He eyed Harry's half raised wand. "One of my father's peacocks attack your berry bushes again?"

Harry stood there, wand half lowered, looking utterly flabbergasted.

Hermione came around with a giant bowl of salad in her arms and set it down on the table.

"Aunt Hermione!" Draco exclaimed with a happy expression that gave Harry a coronary just standing there.

"Draco! Luv," she replied to him, opening her arms. "How are you? Did you get just back from France? How is Scorpius and Astoria?"

Draco slammed into Hermione with a genuine hug, his grey eyes sparkling. "I brought you something from our trip, Aunt Hermione," Draco laughed. He pulled out a basket from pocket and tapped his wand to it, causing it to become full size.

Hermione peaked under the cloth covering the basket. "Pain au chocolat! Draco you are my hero, and I love you to death." She snatched the basket and laughed.

"You loved me before, Auntie," Draco said, twisted his face into a half smirk.

"True," Hermione quipped. "Well, I'll just have to love on you extra so, child."

Draco laughed. "Astoria and Scorpius are having an evening at the spa in London. Astoria sends her regrets, and her well wishes that Uncle Remus doesn't have to get his fur pulled out by a rambunctious three-year-old."

"Hnn," Hermione said. "Your father said that said three-year-old has cost you galleons trying to fetch his great grandmother's china set from the floo network."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't get me started. I swear he didn't get that mischief from me."

"No, you'd never get caught, would you dearheart?" Hermione said, pointing her finger down the line of Draco's nose.

Draco grinned. "Exactly."

"He's three," Severus said as he brought in the pepper mill and cheese grater. "Give him time to warm up to his father's example."

"I should hope not," Hermione answered with a sniff. "I do not want my nephew teaching his child how to chase snitches before he's five, thank you very much."

"Mum!" a young voice chimed from door. "Do I hear cousin Draco?" A dark-haired child yelled from the door.

Draco had little time to spin around before the child slammed into him, leaping into his arms. "Oof! You're getting so big, Orion. I can hardly hold you."

The dark-haired child with startling silver-grey eyes laughed. "Mum says I eat like Uncle Remus and I'm going to turn on the full moon and become a drooly chocolate addict."

"Well, now, young Orion," Draco laughed. "You already have the chocolate addiction covered. It's a good think that werewolves don't find chocolate poisonous, don't you think?"

Orion nodded. "Uncle Remus would be toast!"

"Indeed he would be," Remus laughed as he brought out the plate of lasagna from the kitchen, his green eyes were sparkling with mischief. He placed the food down on the table as his child leapt like a flea from Draco to his arms. "Remus, Remus, Dad showed me how to brew the antidote to common poisons today in class!"

"Did he now?" Remus arched his brow at Severus, who arched his brow right back at him. "I'm sure he taught you perfectly. Did you listen to him?"

"Of course," the child said as if he had just asked him if he liked ice cream. "Dad would give me that mean look if I was impertinent."

Remus burst out laughing. "Ah, love, he has yours and Severus' vocabulary."

"Your affinity to chocolate," Severus said with a sniff.

"Hermione's eyes," Remus laughed, letting the child down to the floor. "Wash up, miscreant. Dinner is soon."

"Yes, Uncle," Orion scampered off into the some other connecting room.

"Speaking of miscreants, Remus," Draco trailed off. "Where is that spawn of yours?"

"Teddy is with his mother, I'll have you know. I did not lock him in a closet," Remus said with a sniff.

"This time?" Hermione asked, arched brow.

"It was an accident!" Remus protested.

"Locking your child up in a wardrobe is such a normal accident," Severus quipped.

"How was I to know he would chase the kneazle into the wardrobe and fall asleep?" Remus sighed.

"First lesson of parenthood, Remus," Hermione scolded. "Always check your wardrobes and your storage room for miscreants before shutting the doors."

Remus facepalmed, running his hand across his face.

The floo flared up with green. "Safe to come in, father?"

"Of course, daughter," Severus said to the fireplace.

A tall, pale of face woman stepped out of the floo. Her long, black hair fell out her face, framing her pale features, and dark black eyes. She stood with the command of one used to being obeyed, but the moment her eyes settled on Severus, her face lit up with warmth. "Father," she greeted, embracing Severus with her arms.

"Lyra, my daughter," Severus said softly. "How was your trip to the Andes?"

"Cold, father," she said with a huff. "And only a few black stemmed moon irises to show for it."

"Pity," Severus answered. "Perhaps the seasons are off due to the early spring."

"Possible," Lyra answered. Her eyes met with Draco. "Cousin! You made it. Glorious!" She glided over to Draco and captured him in a hug. "I smell Uncle Remus' lasagna," she said with mischief. "It smells like he actually remembered the cheese this time."

Remus sputtered from where he was standing with a serving spade, and the young woman glided over to Remus and engulfed him in a hug of his own. She kissed Remus on the cheek. "Good to see you, Uncle."

"Hrmph," Remus replied. "Not sure how nice it is to see you, my imp."

Lyra grinned at him. "Don't be mad," she giggled. "I learned from the best."

"Psh," Remus growled. "I blame your mother and your father."

Lyra laughed whole-heartedly. "Must be nice to deny responsibility, Uncle Remus," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "You know as well as I that you are much my dad as my father. Genetics be damned."

Remus sputtered and shoved his niece towards the table. "Enough. Time to eat."

Lyra turned and saw Harry for the first time. "Harry, it's been a dog's age. Has Sirius been hiding you away in that stuffy old house until you finally make up your mind who to marry?"

Harry stood still, wand still half up from his almost attack on Draco. He sort of muttered incoherently.

"Oh dear," Hermione said with sympathy. "I fear the day we discussed has come to pass, daughter. Take a little pity on the boy, would you please?"

Suddenly Draco and Lyra's eyes widened with some mutual understanding.

"That explains the wand," Draco said, twirling his hand.

"And the wide eyes," Lyra said. She grabbed Harry by the hand and pulled him towards the dinner table. "There now, Harry, sit down and eat with us. I'm sure some of it will come back to you… or to you… depending on how that works. Mother was never that clear."

"I'm afraid I'm not that sure on what the norm is to tell you, daughter," Hermione said pulling out the chairs for people. "It's not like there is a handbook on that sort of thing."

"Well, as much as we'd all like to kick the Weasel between the legs to insure he doesn't pass on his genetic inheritance, Auntie," Draco said with a sniff. "We kind of have to thank him at the same time."

"I don't want to be owing that red-headed monster anything," Lyra snorted. "He was a menace during school, picked on me constantly, and had nothing better to do than brag about his Quidditch prowess. Besides, how are we to know that this is the way it was supposed to work out regardless. Maybe that other life, whatever it was, was the mistake."

Hermione placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "It is our life, daughter. It is right, and it is true. Regardless of how it happened. I have your father and werewolf who might as well be your second father as well and I have you and your precocious brother who is going to grow into another Regulus. Nothing else matters."

Lyra seemed to accept that and relaxed. "Yes, mother. I just…"

Hermione smiled. "Trust me. I know what it is like to deal with the likes of Ronald Weasley."

Lyra smiled at her. "You give him detention with you and father."

Hermione grinned at her daughter. "Indeed."

Remus put his arm around Hermione's waist and grinned down at her. She stared impishly up at him. "Yes, well, we know where Lyra gets her mischievous face from." He pressed his lips to her forehead in a chaste kiss.

Hermione pulled away from him with a look that rivalled a Kneazle's. "The milkman, obviously."

Severus brushed her cheek with his thumb, staring down his aquiline nose at her. "Obviously, wife, because we know so many milkmen," he commented, half of his mouth curving upwards.

A flutter of wings came in the room, and Hermione put her arm out.

A huge black and brown owl landed deftly on her arm with a hoot, a small scroll tied to his leg.

Severus reached over and untangled the scroll from the owl's leg and unrolled it. "Your brothers send their apologies, but they are currently knee-deep in something for the Ministry."

Hermione shook her head, petting the owl on the breast. The owl nipped her fingers, holding them in his beak and then releasing them with a soft hoot. "It doesn't surprise me that much," Hermione laughed. "It's ever so hard to get a last minute family meeting going even when we do bribe them with food."

Hermione transferred the owl to a perch near the end of the table. The owl fanned his wings and looked over the table with interest, hooting softly. She handed him a frog leg and smiled as he tore into it with enthusiasm.

"Do you think I'll ever find a true familiar, mother?" Lyra asked as she sat down at the table. "I love my crazy Kneazle to death, but I don't feel… attached to him like you seem to be with Sagacity. I mean, I love him, but he doesn't share thoughts with me or anything."

"Sometimes it's a matter of luck finding the 'one' as it were, daughter," Hermione said, handing down the salad bowl.

"You don't think it's because I chose a Kneazle over a bird, do you?" Lyra speculated.

Remus passed down the rolls. "No, I think it's just a matter of finding the right animal or the right animal finding you. Sometimes it requires a little patience to find the ones that are meant to be with you."

Lyra sniffed and then smiled. "Like your history with dating?"

Remus flushed. "Well, I wasn't the most observant bloke back in the day."

Severus arched a brow. "You 'observed' yourself into quite a few horrible dating relationships, Remus."

Remus turned a bit red. "I was a typical teenager, I'll have you know."

"Right," Severus ribbed. "Utterly typical. Between you and Sirius, you must have been the most observant male wizards in Hogwarts."

Remus sputtered.

Lyra sniffed. "No wonder he was so protective of me when I was teenager. He knew exactly what he was doing at that age."

Remus was now completely red to match the tomato sauce.

"Enough," Hermione said in a tone that brokered no refusal. "Dinner. Leave poor Remus' dignity in tact. There has to be something left for his wife to pick on. Also we do have a guest who is, technically, hearing all this for the first time."

Lyra turned her head to the salad. "Sorry, mother," she apologised. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry turned wide eyes to her.

Lyra passed Harry the potato salad with a disarming grin that looks so very much like Hermione's. "Still doing the Auror bit?" she asked mundanely.

Harry nodded. He was pretty sure he was still an Auror. Merlin only knew if he really was.

"That's good," she answered. "You were always good about protecting people that were being picked on in school.

Orion bounced in from the other room and took his seat by Harry. "Hi, Harry!"

"Hi, erm…" Harry managed to say.

"You taking Teddy and I to the zoo this weekend like you promised?" Orion asked, his silver-grey eyes bored into him.

"Ehhh," Harry said, staring at Hermione for some kind clue. "Sure?"

"Yes!" Orion cheered, digging into his salad.

Harry got the feeling by the amused looks going down the table that he had just been Slytherined into taking a certain child to the zoo.

Harry made a mental note to kick Ronald Weasley between the legs because of the amount his poor brain was having to digest in the course of the last hour was enough to give him convulsions of his own and drive the part of him that was an Auror into the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's for a weekend stay for his own mental health.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_21st of June, Two thousand and nine_

Dear Regulus,

Well, the day that we supposed would happen has happened, my brother, and Harry only had to pass out once and go into shock during dinner before he finally loosened up to join in on the stories.

It must be hard for him trying to reconcile the past both he and I shared with what has come to pass. He took the discovery of Severus and Remus about as well as one could expect. At least he didn't take it out on the family tree like Sirius did when he first found out. I find it ironic that our brother, the one with so many girlfriends in his time at Hogwarts, was the one to flip out over Severus and Remus when both father and mother took it much better. The irony is not lost on me.

Severus has been, as we all know, the most dutiful of fathers, but Remus has always been there for us both. I could not imagine him not being in our lives, helping us raise Lyra, or now how he helps with Orion.

Speaking of our dear brother, I do hope that Canis is not doing horrible things to your sanity. I know your missions for the Ministry are both varied and exciting as much as they can be monotonous and boring. I missed seeing you last night, but I understand that you both are occupied with work. You have always been the best at curse-breaking, and Canis has always been good at sniffing up trouble like the dog he is named after.

Speaking of sly dogs, my young Orion has officially earned his Slytherin stripes by convincing Harry that he was to take him and Teddy to the zoo this weekend. The boy is so much like you at that age, dear brother, and find myself with a little heartache missing you horribly when my mind remembers you so fiercely.

Take care of yourself, Regulus. Try to keep Canis out of trouble. I realise neither of us get paid for that job, but unfortunately, it has been handed down to us.

All my love, your sister,

Hermione (her seal the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_6th of July, Two thousand and nine (Full Moon)_

Dear Hermione,

My dear sister. Your letter reaches me when I am in the darkest pit of stagnation in this horrible mission, and while I cannot tell you what is going on, I can tell you that I haven't had a good sleep and a civilised bath in over a week. Our brother smells like a wet dog, and I'm convinced he is sharing with me his fleas. Insufferable git.

I am glad that the time has finally come and past for Harry to gain the memories of the past you once shared. While I cannot say I envy him the experience of the differences, I will say that I am glad it worked out the way it did.

I know you once fretted over when this day came, if Harry would blame you for changing things from how they should be. I am glad that he did not do so. You, my beloved sister, are truly a Black. You are, as our parents told us often, of the Ancient and most noble House of Black, and no one can ever take that from you. I will personally shove my wand into the throat of anyone who dares challenge your birthright. The stars have claimed you as their own, and it was the stars that gave you to us. It was a gift that honoured the House of Black, and no one will ever convince me different, just as no one could convince our beloved father. I believe that even our mother was changed for the better due to you in our lives.

Our mother's portrait often speaks of you, my sister, but unlike the horrible things she spews at our dear brother, she always speaks of you as the one who dared to do the things she could not. From what you told me of how she treated you in your phantom life, surely this is proof that this is the place you have always meant to be. How you got here is immaterial. You were born a Black. I have the old box of embarrassing baby photos to prove it.

Please, give my love to Remus and Severus. I have missed them horribly as I have missed you. I look forward to a long night's sleep nestled between you three during the moon nights. That sense of peace is sorely lacking out here… in the trenches.

The moon is rising here, and I realise as I write this that you are all probably romping the forests and fields in gleeful abandon with Tuft. I know most people would consider me insane for missing night romps with a rampaging werewolf, but I cannot help but think that those nights at Hogwarts were the best of our lives.

Speaking of werewolves, did you hear what happened to that toad of a woman that worked at the Ministry back when Lyra was attending Hogwarts? The pink woman with the horrible sweaters and kitten plates in her office? I shudder thinking of it. Turns out the woman has been hiding something from us for quite some time. Not only was the toad half-blood attempting to pass herself as pure back in the day, but she was bitten by the werewolf Fenrir Greyback after trying to pass the law that banned werewolves from taking jobs in the Wizarding world. They found her in a cage in the basement of her residence during the full moon. Someone had given our office the tip that she was holding a werewolf against their will in her basement, so we were cleared to bust into her place and look around. Do you want to know what is really comical? She looked like a shaved poodle.

I am being as serious as the Cruciatus, my sister, she is the first bona fide were-poodle. She even had pink fur and yapped like one of those annoying Muggle dogs at the pet store in London. I have never seen the like. I have never, ever heard of someone's bite from a werewolf mutating like that. Needless to say, her reputation is the furthest thing from trustworthy to anyone in the Ministry anymore, and it has nothing to do with her being a were…poodle and everything to do with her lack of honour and character.

I tell you, my sister, I used to think that things could not get more strange than our time at Hogwarts, and I was wrong. I have indeed seen more strange things post-graduation, and part of me is horrified that it is so.

Canis is snoring in his sleep right now. I'm about ready to smother him with my coat. I suppose I should get some sleep while I can.

I love you, my sister.

All my love, your brother,

Regulus (his seal, the sickle)

-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** I will have to admit I chuckled quite a bit writing this chapter.

Here's the bad news. Spring Break is over, folks. So it's back to my normal "as I have time, and I don't have much of it" posting schedule. Thank you all for your wonderful comments. You really helped me enjoy my Spring Break.


	18. Herb Preparation Woes

**A/N: **I had this wonderfully winded reply for all the venom (some of which oddly are posted in a flurry using chapter 1 over and over again as guest… not suspicious at all…) I've been getting for the last chapter and decided to delete it from the A/N. I realised that doesn't matter. I am happy for those of you who are enjoying my story and take the time to support my efforts, and for those that cannot, well, there are plenty of stories out there for you. I wish you the best in finding them.

For those of you who have been overwhelming understanding and supportive to me (even when you didn't see the possible future pairing coming), truly you are all the most wondrous batch of supportive reviewers I could ever ask for. You really helped bring me out of my slump into self-doubt. As a thank you, I give you chapter 18 to the soundtrack of "Answers" from FFXIV.

-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 18: Herb Preparation Woes**

_Wednesday, March 29th, 1972, Full Moon_

Lily was separating the stamens, carpels, and ovules from the moon lilies and Nottingham Catchflies and putting them into separate trays. She chopped the petals with a silver knife with focused determination.

Severus, Remus, and Hermione were doing much the same with different plants. Severus took the evening primrose and night gladiolus, Remus took the night blooming water lilies and the Four O'Clock. Hermione worked with an unwieldy flower called the Saussurea Obvallata and a pile of dragon fruit flowers.

"I can't believe we have to do this again," Lily complained. "We had everything ready."

"We thought we could leave leave the herbs in Slughorn's laboratory, but he forgot that he had scheduled that potions group to work in there," Remus said forlornly. "It was just bad luck that we had the trays out waiting for us to bottle them when they came in and thought it was cast off."

"Bad luck or on purpose," Lily growled.

"Doubtfully on purpose," Severus said. "Most students don't know one dried something to another dried something. It could be water lily or day lily or asphodel or blue-blacked tree fungus. I've seen students year ahead of us not tell the difference in open lab."

Hermione filled one tray and moved on to the next. "At least Professor Slughorn managed to get us replacement reagents. He didn't have to, but he did. He felt awful, or so he said, and I don't think he would ever mean to sabotage any of his prospective success stories."

"It's just annoying, is all," Lily said. "We were ready to start doing the actually brewing, and I feel like we lost a month waiting for the next full moon to charge up the ingredients. The sun aligned flowers and plants were so much easier. All we had to do was wait for a sunny day. Waiting for a full moon is annoying. I hate that we have to wait for the full moon to do our shampoo and conditioner brewing."

"I thought you liked your little hair care product experiments, Lily," Hermione said.

"I do, don't get me wrong," Lily said. "I just find being restricted to a forced schedule irritating. I hate feeling like I'm being forced into doing something, you know? Like this potion we are working on. Werewolves, right? They are forced into turning into mindless ravaging beasts by the full moon, so even if we make this potion, we'd basically be 'forcing' them to take the potion or be a ravaging beast. That's not much of a choice, even if we do succeed."

Three sets of eyes stared at lily as she described her opinions of werewolves.

Lily looked up. "What?"

Severus, Hermione, and Remus began frantically chopping their ingredients as to not have to look Lily in the eye.

Lily sighed. "I'm all for helping the poor people who have been attacked by werewolves," Lily said. "It's a good idea, it's just… werewolves give me the creeps. No free will. They are created by beasts to become beasts, and I have to wonder just how much the potion will help them. I would never want to be trapped with a human mind in the body of an animal."

Remus was chopping his pieces of plant so finely that both Hermione and Severus reached over at the same time and placed hands upon his shoulders. Remus took a calming breath and chopped more slowly.

"What about Animagi, Lily?" Hermione said carefully, keeping her knife work very slow and controlled.

Lily continued to chop obliviously. "Animagi are creepy too," Lily said. "Every time I see Professor McGonagall sitting on her desk as that cat, I can hardly look at her. It's really unnerving to see a cat and know that it's Professor McGonagall watching me. It's not natural."

Hermione was still for a moment. Her lips pursed together as she gathered her thoughts.

"Haven't you ever dreamed of flying or maybe running as fast as a cheetah, Lily?" Severus asked.

"I'm perfectly happy on a broom, Severus," Lily said. "I'd even ride one of the school's hippogriffs if they let me, but ugh. I read a book in the library about people who end up stuck in half forms, or can't change back, or end up being taken over by animal instincts, or some other horrible problem. I'd have nightmares for weeks just thinking about getting stuck with a tail or ears or horns or something unnatural. People pointing at me, laughing… I'd die."

Severus, Remus, and Hermione chopped their ingredients quietly, saying nothing, but had Lily been paying attention, she would have noticed that they trio moved a little closer together and leaned against each other for silent comfort. None of them had ever considered being an animagus as something unnatural. None of them had considered failing at it either. To them, success was the only option, and the reason was to keep Remus and Tuft company—kind and gentle Remus and the playful and drooly Tuft, whose only true curse was that he wasn't able to come out and play with his friends more than three days of each month.

There was the idea that if he saw a human, there was a good chance Tuft would become violent and have the driving need to bite and attack, but Hermione and Severus were beginning to form different hypotheses for why the werewolf had the burning need to bite others.

Hermione had pondered that perhaps the lone werewolf craved company, so the bite was the werewolf's only way to "guarantee" that at least on the next full moon, he would probably get some. Severus hypothesised that since the wolf could only come out, albeit by force, three out of thirty days a month, by the time the wolf did break free of the human shape it was not only desperate for companionship but angry because the human that served as its cage was denying its expression all the other days of the month. Remus, ever the balance, said perhaps they were both right, and perhaps, when he embraced his animagus form, they could prove that the more frequent shifts by free will would counter the violence of the forced shift during full moons. They knew that no one else had even thought of the idea. There was no research or published work even hinting that it would be possible.

Best care scenario would be that Tuft and Remus would become one in balance, and the potion they were making he would never actually need for himself, and they would be free to romp the wilds around Hogwarts without needing to use the house outside of Hogsmeade. Acceptable case scenario would be that at least the potion worked, and he and Tuft would at least be at peace with the potion, and of course, the hundreds or more other people afflicted with lycanthropy.

They finished their ingredient preparations and gathered the trays. Each of them carried it to the door of Professor McGonagall's office.

Minerva greeted them at the door and gestured them in. She had prepared a special place outside her window where they could lay the trays. She had transfigured a shelter to keep the wind and rain from effecting the ingredients as they sat under the moonlight for the night and charmed it to close off at dawn to keep them protected from the sunlight.

Each of them placed their tray on her prepared ledge and Minerva smiled as she closed and latched the door. "I'll take them out in the morning, dears," she said. You can bottle them here and place them in the shelf here in my office. When you need them, you can come fetch them. Hopefully this will keep that unfortunate issue with the open lab from happening again."

"Thank you, Master," Hermione said with a genuine smile.

"You are welcome, Hermione," McGonagall said with a smile.

"Oh!" Lily said, "I need to get going. My brewing club is meeting soon." She dashed out of the office without another word, leaving the animagi trio to exchange odd looks with each other.

Minerva shook her head. "Flighty one, that girl," Minerva clucked. "Oh, and I have something for you three."

Curious eyes stared at Minerva from three different directions.

"I took the liberty of registering you three as my students in regards to your Animagus studies. This comes with few minor perks since you are not learning under the table as it were." She pulled out a small wooden box from her desk. She opened it and three small pins were inside. One held a red gem, two were green. "These are your registry pins. They are enchanted with your registration information and my name in case you are questioned, if that should ever come up, which I doubt. Once you take your forms, we will sent your description details to the registry, but the important things is, while you are wearing this, the animagus transformation is not included in the trace."

Confused glances were exchanged.

McGonagall smiled. "It means that since you are registered, you can use the spell anytime outside of Hogwarts, unlike other feats of magic that are recorded and sent back to that bothersome office that keeps track of such things. Minor use of magic nonsense, but that is neither here nor there. This is good for you three, because you won't be getting howlers and legal letters from the Ministry about the _Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery_ every time you try to meditate on a hilltop somewhere outside of Hogwarts, or, if during the summer it becomes necessary for you shift on… your bingo nights, for example." She gave them a knowing smile.

The trio exchanged excited glances and nodded to her in gratitude. Each of the children took their pin and put it on their collar. It was small and easily overlooked unless someone knew what they were looking for. It was perfect. It seemed as though Professor McGonagall was doing everything she could to insure that not only did Remus have his friends at his side outside of Hogwarts, but that they were all protected under the law in doing so. The amount of respect the trio had for the elder Animagus kept increasing with leaps and bounds. No other professor had shown such concern for those outside their native House.

"Thank you, Master."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

"You are welcome," Minerva said. She put her hand on Remus' shoulder. "You have amazing friends willing to to amazing things for you, young Remus. I hope you realise just how much."

"I do, Professor," Remus said humbly.

"All that I ask is that if and when you take your first shift successfully, if it is not done with me near, that you tell me at once, perhaps after you are done frolicking in it, as I know how that goes," the elder Animagus chuckled. "It is important that you are fully registered as soon as that happens, even with the registry pin. Do I make myself plain?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the three chimed.

"Good," she replied with a smile. "Now, I believe you have a bingo club to run off to," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

The trio grinned at her. "Yes, Ma'am!"

The three of them began to leave together, but Hermione hung back. "I'll… um… meet you at the club soon, okay guys?"

"Okay, Hermione," they answered, shuffling down the corridor and away.

"Is there something you needed, Hermione?" McGonagall asked gently.

"Actually, Master," Hermione said with a shy smile. "I think I have something to show you."

Minerva lifted her head, her brows furrowing a moment before her face lit up in a radiant smile.

"Indeed, my Apprentice," she said. "I'm all eyes." She shut the door to her office to give them privacy.

Hermione grinned from ear to ear and let the change take her up in a flurry of fire and feathers.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Minerva watched as Hermione exited her office and scurried down the empty corridor after her friends. Night would be falling soon, and soon after that, the moon would be rising.

She had the sneaky suspicion that her Apprentice had already grasped and embraced her change long before tonight, but she was happy that after receiving their official registry pins, Hermione had immediately shared her transformation with her Master. Minerva didn't blame the girl for keeping it hidden. Their monthly "bingo nights" to keep their werewolf friend company was a very brave and noble thing to do. The fact that they had already succeeded in doing so with only one of them having completed the true transformation, was a testament to their determination to make it happen as well as her Apprentice's skill in human transfiguration, which only made Minerva more and more proud of her Apprentice.

It seemed, however, that her other lion cub, Lily Evans, was not interested in becoming an Animagus like her friends. Unlike the young animagi trio, she had neither expressed an interest, nor did her friends ask if she could join them for the lessons. It was curious, but not so hard to understand. Not everyone had the will and patience for the study. Even less had a reason that drove them to succeed at it past the initial whimsy of wanting the novelty of it. It didn't make a person a failure by any means, but it simply indicated that the person's interests lay elsewhere.

Minerva was actually breaking quite a few records teaching three determined first years such advanced magic, but if Hermione's success was any indicator, she had no doubt that the other two would soon follow. The three of them were stalwart friends and determined to reach their goals.

Her job, however, was to keep those under her paws safe, and nothing would be better for the friends than to be protected with an animagus form around a werewolf. Remus, she knew, had a tragic story. His father's arrogance had brought Fenrir Greyback calling on his son that fateful night, and Remus Lupin had been cursed since that night to be caged in one way or another every month as the full moon rose in the sky.

While Remus' parents had meant well in isolating him from everyone, Minerva saw the hunger in the boy for even the smallest bit of true friendship that he had believed, until two strangely understanding Slytherin came by, he was not worthy of.

Albus, to his credit, had at least created a safe place for the young werewolf to undergo his change in safety against the public, but what he had not planned for was the wolf taking out his frustrations out himself. It didn't take too many leaps of logic to see the signs of Remus' self abuse prior to his arrival at Hogwarts. Being caged had caused the werewolf to scratch, bite, slam himself in to bars, and do all manner of things to himself to escape what could only have been a range of torture for a wolf. Being caged, having no company, having nothing to entertain himself, and being treated with fear by his own family had probably made it horribly worse.

While Minerva couldn't blame the parents, per se, as werewolves were not exactly friendly to anything human during the nights of their transformation, she knew that the toll on Remus had been the same. His haunted eyes, abused body, and repressed personality had all arrived at Hogwarts together. Yet, somehow two cunning Slytherin had not only discovered the werewolf's painful secret, they were driven to make the boy's life better, and it was working.

When Minerva looked at Remus, she saw the boy no longer had the haunted, gaunt, and sickly look about him after his changes. He no longer had to stay in the hospital wing like a hotel guest after his changes, and even Poppy Pomfrey had said that the boy looked quite healthy in comparison to how she had first seen him. Minerva had no doubt that it was because of his faithful friends that he was doing well, and anything she could do to encourage and protect the growing friendship between them was not such a hard thing to ask of her.

Minerva exited her office and closed the door, letting her cat shape swallow her up. She padded down the corridors of Hogwarts, her tail flipped over her back like a flag.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Peter Pettigrew stared off over the darkened green through the Gryffindor Common Room window. "Where do you think Lupin goes every month, James?"

"He's always in the hospital wing," James replied. "Poor guy is really sick."

"He's always hanging out with those two snakes anymore," Peter said. "Maybe they're poisoning him."

James frowned. "That Black girl practically shoved her wand down my throat when I even hinted that Lupin was anything but honourable, Peter. She's a right terror, but I don't think she'd poison him. Seems kind of counter intuitive."

"Don't tell me you're actually defending that snake, James?" Peter scoffed.

James rubbed the area between his eyes. "I dunno, Peter. I feel like… I feel like every time I see them, I say the most spiteful and stupid things. I do shit I can't even remember why I did it." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Maybe Sirius is right. Maybe I do need to go get my head examined."

Peter pshed. "I know what will make you feel better." He pulled out a small box from his robes and opened it. "Your favourite, mate."

James smiled. "Liqueur bon-bons. Excellent." James grabbed on and stuffed it in his mouth. "Aren't you going to have one?" he asked, mouth full before he swallowed.

"Naw," Peter said. "I stuffed myself earlier tonight."

"Suit yourself," James said, taking another and devouring it. He swallowed the second candy and seemed to stare off into space. After a minute, he shook his head. "What were we talking about, Peter?"

"I think we should share the last of the candy with Sirius and go prank us some snakes," Peter suggested.

An evil grin spread across James' face. "Excellent idea, Peter. Those stupid snakes won't even see it coming."

Peter smiled back at him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione pondered as the three of them sat on top of the four poster bed inside the house, with Remus attempting to cover his dignity with the quilt, that they had managed to recreate the Golden Trio of the future within their little group. She wouldn't, however, consider it golden as much as perhaps… sienna or and perhaps the colour of Remus' green eyes when Tuft was peaking through with the rich golden yellow of his wolf's regard. Either way, the colour she would choose would hardly be strictly gold. They were, in many way their own oddball mixture of serpent green and crimson lion.

Minerva's encouragement had done nothing but strengthen the bond between them. Their shared meditation had reinforced the feeling that they were linked by something undeniable, and the flow of their magic had become as natural entwined as they were apart.

The moon, whether it was Remus' bond with her influence or not, seemed to strength their flow of magic, their resolve, and the power of their meditation. So, when Hermione opened her eyes to see that her best friends were now a magnificent looking Bateleur eagle and a huge grey wolf with piercing green eyes, Hermione felt the tears trailing down her face just before she wrapped her arms around the both, crushing them to her as the tears washed down her face.

"You still have your tufted tail, Remus," Hermione sniffled into his fur.

Remus licked her face, whining softly, tail wagging.

Severus flapped his wings experimentally. His wings were larger than his transfigured eagle form. His bright red and orange face and bright crimson feet stood out from his ebony feathers.

Hermione pulled the eagle to her in crushing hug, causing the startled eagle to squeak in a very undignified un-eagle sort of way.

Hermione released him, soothing his feathers with her hand.

Severus tilted his head and gave an eagle squeak, rubbing his head against her palm.

Remus whined softly, his body trembling, and Hermione immediately shifted into her phoenix form. His eyes bled into molten gold, and his muzzle snapped together as his his teeth seemed to shift around and muzzle shortened and narrowed slightly, but then, just like that, Tuft was there, wagging his tail in greeting.

Tuft grabbed Hermione's head in his mouth again, playfully drooling upon her head before releasing her, and then proceeded to snuffle Severus mercilessly, checking out the strange new bird that smelled like his friend. He toppled Severus over, snuffled his breast feathers, licked his feet, and then drooled profusely upon him as though it were the only civilised thing to do.

Eagle-ball Severus glared at Tuft, but the werewolf wagged his tail happily, slurping the eagle on the face.

Hermione tugged on Tuft's tail.

Severus went for his ear.

Tuft spun around and around snapping at his teasers. Hermione took off towards the upstairs, Tuft scrambling after her.

Severus took that moment to preen his feathers back into order.

A few minutes later, Tuft practically pranced down the staircase, carrying Hermione in his mouth and looking utterly proud of himself.

Hermione dripped werewolf drool in resignation, but didn't fight as Tuft hopped up onto the mattress of the bed, turned a few times and then flopped down, setting her beside him like a treasured artifact.

Tuft panted, tail wagging as Severus fluttered up and talon walked over to snuggle next to Hermione, using his beak to help preen her drooly feathers into something less mop-like. He yawned toothily and snuggled his birds with a tired sigh, curling his tail around them as his head lay against them.

Severus gave a soft chirp, and Hermione let loose a melodious warble.

All was good with the world.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hey, Sirius!"

"Yeah, what?" Sirius grunted from under his duvet.

"I think your sister is up to something," Peter said.

"Dude, you woke me up from a glorious dream of me frolicking in the spring fields so you could tell me my sister is up to something?" Sirius grabbed Peter by the collar and dragged him closer to his increasingly annoyed face. "What is wrong with you, mate?"

Peter's eyes flicked over to the bed stand where his previous offers of liqueur filled candy lay unopened and uneaten. Peter simpered, "I brought you the good candy earlier. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Sirius pushed Peter away with a grunt. "I had a stomach ache. Madam Pomfrey told me to lay off the chocolate for a few days."

Peter's bottom lip quivered slightly. "She's sneaking around in the middle of the night," Peter said.

"She's a Black," Sirius snarled. "We adore midnight sneaking. I sneak around in the middle of the night too, if you haven't noticed, you blind sod."

"That's different, Sirius," Peter whined.

Sirius growled, sounding very much the dog of his namesake. Peter held his hands together in appeasement. "Don't you want to know what she's up to?"

Sirius snorted. "What, you want me to go skulk around in the hallways looking for her? And then she tells me that she's out hunting for a midnight snack?" Sirius glared at Peter and then shook his head. "Fine, I'll go look, but my sister has the right to sneak around like anyone else, or get caught like anyone else." He put on his shoes and threw on a cloak.

Sirius got up to wake up James, who was snoring like a Muggle saw.

Peter tugged on his sleeve. "Come on, no time, she'll be on the move."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but followed after.

The corridors were empty, but at this hour both the prefects and the professors had long since gone to bed. It was the idea time to get snacks from the kitchen or sneak out onto the greens without anyone knowing. The midnight swims in Black Lake in the warmer months were always fun.

Sirius headed towards the kitchens. Regulus and Hermione were always sitting in the kitchen drinking tea and eating biscuits at odd hours. It wouldn't surprise him if that was where she was. Something tickled the inside of his brain. Why was Peter keeping tabs on his sister, anyway? It wasn't like sneaking around the kitchens was a crime punishable by Azkaban.

Peter tugged on his sleeve. "She went this way," Peter said, pointing to the moist foot prints on the stone pathway. Odd, how did he miss those going by the first time?

They sneaked out of the courtyard and started to go down the path.

"Where are we going, Peter?" Sirius asked.

"I saw her go down this way," Peter explained.

"Into the Dark Forest?" Sirius said nervously. He'd never been out in the Dark Forest, and from what he heard, there was a reason it was forbidden to students.

Peter led him in the dimness that was almost completely dark. He could barely see his hand in front of his face, let alone the outline of the trees even with the moon. It wasn't long, however, when he couldn't see Peter in front of him.

"Peter?" Sirius said. No answer. "Peter, come on, where are you?"

Suddenly the snap of flames rising came before the glow of a torch, and dark shapes surrounded him. Loud hoofbeats stomped in the dark.

"You are not welcome here, foal of Hogwarts," one of the centaurs said. "You trespass on our hunting grounds and you disturb the forest with your noisy thrashing about in the dark."

Sirius gulped. The centaur were huge. They towered over him in a manner that made his bravery turn tail and dive into the brush. He was lucky if he came up to the centaur's chest.

"I… was following my friend, Peter," Sirius said.

"For what purpose would a child wish to find their death in the dark?" one of the centaur rumbled.

Sirius opened and then closed his mouth. Why was he following Peter into the Dark Forest?

"Tregonius," one of the centaur said. "Please escort the foal from our lands."

"Yes, Meliton," one of the dark shapes answered. "You will follow me, child of Hogwarts," the centaur said lowly. "Put your hand upon my withers here, and stay beside me."

Sirius nodded silently and followed the instructions.

Meliton watched the human child stumble out of the forest with Tregonius. "Did you see another human child?" he asked his fellows.

"No, Meliton, we have not," they answered him.

"But he smelled of another," another said.

Meliton narrowed his eyes. "Keep both eyes and ears out… and your noses as well. It may be nothing, but I do not wish to come back on this and wonder why we did nothing to be sure."

"Yes, Meliton," the centaur said, shuffling off into the dark as silently as they came.

Meliton narrowed his eyes, ears perked as his listened to the sounds of the forest. Why would a child bring another child into the Dark Forest with no purpose?

Meliton stomped his front hoof and turned, walking into the dark of the forest.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** I have made a poll (see profile) asking what people are expecting pairing wise in this story. Please indulge my curiosity, if you would.

And here ends the Break of Spring. Alas.


	19. Lack of Manners

**Chapter 19: Lack of Manners**

Hermione opened her eyes and saw bright green eyes staring at her from a wolf's face.

Remus.

Remus wagged his tail at her merrily, twirling it like a helicopter blade.

She looked towards the floo and saw dimness. The sun was not even close to being up yet.

A flash of yellow bled into Remus' wolf eyes and he clasped Severus' head in his jaws, slobbering on him profusely.

The Bateleur eagle snorted, chirped, and pegged Remus on the nose.

Remus yipped and tail wagged.

Hermione flew over to the other room and landed on the trap door.

Severus and Remus followed in a scramble of wings and paws.

Hermione shifted long enough to open the trap door, dove through, and changed again. Remus jumped down to the dirt path and Severus hopped down in a flutter of wings. They dodged the branches of the unhappy Whomping Willow and tore off over the green.

Severus rose up into the air, giving a sharp call into the morning air. Hermione chased him, nipping at his tail feathers and singing her warbling chain of ringing notes. Remus tore after them, tail streaming behind him as he gave chase to his aerial bird friends.

On top of the ramparts, Minerva McGonagall watched over the fields around Hogwarts, smiled as a certain phoenix, and eagle, and a wolf chased each other across the morning dew-laden grasses. She tilted back her head and laughed, a smile about her lips and a twinkle in her eyes.

She watched as they romped in the grass, giving chase, being chased, and then the wolf tore across the green with a phoenix on his head and an eagle on his back. The birds broke off, dive bombing the wolf's head, yanking on his tail, and then flying off, the wolf snapping his jaws in the air behind them.

Minerva saw Poppy Pomfrey making her way in the early morning towards the Whomping Willow, and the trio took towards the pathway, zooming right under Poppy's radar.

There was a whoosh of wings over Minerva's head as two sets of wings flew over her head as the phoenix and eagle buzzed by her head. Their great wings spread out as they banked back towards her and landed on the cobblestone in front of her, shedding their bird shapes as they knelt in front of her like knights to the Queen.

"Master," they chimed in unison.

Minerva slowly reached out with her hands and placed them gently on their heads.

"Well done," she said softly. "Twenty points to Slytherin to the both of you for cunning, perseverance, and skill."

They stood up smiling at her.

"And five points from Slytherin, for being up before dawn and rampaging on the grounds."

Severus and Hermione blushed and stared at their feet.

"Follow me, my young Apprentices," Minerva said. "I think it's time we send those owls to the registry."

The duo grinned and followed behind Minerva as she led them down the empty early morning corridors of Hogwarts.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Sis," Sirius called from the columns.

Hermione raised her head as she walked with Severus and Remus from their last class. She arched one black eyebrow in prime Walburga form.

The group slowed down, and Hermione approached with a questioning look upon her face. "Canis?"

"Somethings wrong with me," Sirius said, wincing. He had his hand on his gut. "My head is all fuzzy, and I can't feel you… not like I should."

Hermione raised both eyebrows and then furrowed them with concern. She touched his arm and felt his head for a temperature.

"Come on, let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," she said softly.

Suddenly, Sirius' face screwed up in a scowl, "Get away from you Slytherin freak!"

Hermione recoiled back like she was burned. Severus was at her side in an instant, and Remus was in front of her like he was going to rip of Sirius' face.

Sirius clutched his head. "Sis, I can't think… I'm sorry… Something is wrong with me."

The trio exchanged glances.

"Did you eat something?" Hermione asked.

"Drink anything odd?" Severus asked.

Sirius looked at them with glassy eyes. "I can't remember."

Hermione's brows furrowed.

"_Tell me, Miss Granger," Snape's voice rang in Hermione's head. The image of the elder Professor's scowling face leering down at her hit her viscerally. "What potion is easily overdosed on, amplifies negative impulses randomly, and causes gastric distress and memory loss when overused to toxicity?"_

"_Malevolent Mixture, Sir," Hermione had said._

"_Very good, Miss Granger," Snape's voice was both velvet and venom. "Care to enlighten your class why it is so dangerous?"_

_Hermione tilted her chin up to face him. "Its flavour and bitterness are easily masked in food, and by the time the person shows symptoms of toxicity, their body may be going into shock."_

"_And why is hard to diagnose?"_

"_Every person responds differently to the toxins," Hermione answered. "Some may be very tolerant. Some may succumb within seconds."_

_Snape sneered at her. "Seeing as only one of you can cough up the words from your textbook on demand, all of you will be writing three feet of parchment on Malevolent Mixture," Snape growled. "It will be due next class. Dismissed."_

"Hurry, we need to move him quickly before he goes into shock," Hermione said, waving Severus and Remus to help her.

"Get off me you slimy snakes!" Sirius yelled, flinging out his arms.

Hermione hissed in frustration as they tried to pin him. When Sirius' fist when out to punch Remus in the face, Hermione's hand slammed into Sirius's forehead and she traced a rune to his skin with her finger. It flashed with a glow like fire, then a blue glow like ice before disappearing, and Sirius slumped into Severus and Remus.

The pair stared at Hermione with very obvious questions written on their face.

"Long story," Hermione said. "Dad used to use it on us to get us to sleep when we were hyper."

Severus and Remus hoisted Sirius between them, and they dragged the eldest son of the House of Black by his arms to the Hospital Wing.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Madam Pomfrey was pacing the ward as Headmaster Dumbledore came into the room.

"What is troubling you, Poppy?" the elder wizard asked softly.

Poppy gestured to the hospital bed where Sirius lay sleeping, Hermione lay draped over him yet again, Severus sat in the nearby chair reading a tome, and Remus sat in the chair on the opposite side reading what looked like a DADA textbook.

"Someone dosed him with malevolent mixture, Albus," Poppy explained. "It was administered consistently over a long period of time. The doses could have been small, but there was enough that his body was suffering from it building up inside him. It's going to take a good week or more for me to get it all out of him without sending his body into shock dealing with that, and after that I highly recommend him going to see a mind healer at St. Mungos."

"A mind healer?" Dumbledore asked, stroking his beard.

"It's essential, Albus," Poppy said. "There could be all manner of problems caused by that potion and only a specialist mind healer is going to know what to look for. I can only tell you that I know enough that he will need one."

"Is this a prank gone wrong, Poppy?" Albus asked. "Some some fun between friends that didn't know better?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "Albus, malevolent mixture is hardly something you accidentally dose someone with as you know from a few years ago when that potion blew up in Horace's classroom and had half the class brawling with their fists. Who wants to make your friends angry, combative, jealous, or all number of negative things?"

Albus rubbed the area between his eyes with his fingers. "This one of the Slytherin boys?" he asked, noting the distinctive green colours on Hermione and Severus.

Poppy shook her head. "It's Sirius Black, Headmaster. Gryffindor House."

Albus startled, having only done a brief glance towards the bed, looked grave. "Do you think they dosed the boy, Poppy? Brought them in when things went wrong?"

"They…?" Pomfrey looked puzzled and then her head shot up. "No, Headmaster. They are the ones who brought him in. The witch there, is his sister. The other two helped drag him in. None too soon either. And… this was not the work on one dose gone wrong, Albus. This was long term. Someone meant to do it, or rather meant for them to suffer the effects of the potion for a long time. It was not an accident."

Albus frowned. "Have any of the other students been exposed?"

"I'm not sure, Albus," Poppy replied. "The symptoms, well the early ones, mimic all manner of normal things. Headache, stomach ache, or even the mundane flu."

Albus walked a little closer and then realised that Remus was sitting next to Sirius along with the two Slytherin students. Curious.

"Mr. Lupin?" Dumbledore addressed.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?" the boy asked, setting down his textbook on Defence.

"May I speak with you over here a moment?"

Remus blinked, shrugged, and walked over. "Is there something wrong, Headmaster?"

"No, Mr. Lupin," Albus said. "But, if I might ask, how did Mr. Black end up here?"

Remus shook his head. "We're not sure, Sir," he said with a shrug. "He said his stomach hurt, and he was acting a little strange, and then he took a swing at me. We manged to drag him here, and then Madam Pomfrey said he needed rest as his body fought off the toxin."

"There wasn't any kind of a fight?" Albus asked. "Anything that they didn't want you to tell me?" Dumbledore eyed the two Slytherin keeping vigil over the bed.

Remus' eyes flashed to a golden colour. His brows furrowed, and his posture stiffened. "No, Sir. It happened as I said."

Albus met the boy's eyes and stared into them curiously. "I see."

"They didn't poison him, Headmaster Dumbledore," Remus said. "I swear it." Remus' voice, which was usually soft and docile, had a growl to it. Curious.

Albus looked at him for a few seconds more, his brows furrowing. "I believe you, Mr. Lupin." Dumbledore said.

Remus relaxed a little.

The young witch draped over Sirius' bed stirred and sighed softly. She pressed her hand into the boy's and stroked the back of it with her thumb. Her eyes flicked from Sirius to Albus, her silver eyes shone with something akin to fire.

"Headmaster," she addressed softly, inclining her head slightly in deference.

A few things clicked into place as Albus stared into the young witch. One, she was definitely a Black. He could see the family resemblance five times over in her bearing, alignment of her jaw, and her grey eyes. Two, as she stood up and her robes fell across her shoulders, he saw Minerva's pin upon her collar. He wasn't sure why he had though she was someone else, but there was no mistaking her now. Her Apprentice robes hung about her with quiet dignity like the lay of wings. Three, as his eyes met hers, he saw nothing in her mind. None of the fluff he normally saw while casually brushing into a student's mind. She stared at him as he would see the face of someone met in a duel with the equivalent to a Wizarding poker face that many witches and wizards would die for. Then, like the passing of a cloud over her eyes, they were warm. Her mind was filled with normal trivial concerns like class, and the worry for Sirius, who lay in the bed before her. Albus tilted his head. Perhaps he had imagined it, that strange and bleak stillness of her mind. Such a thing in a twelve year old was perhaps a testament to the upbringing in her Pure-blood family, but it was still something difficult to see in one so young.

"Apprentice Black," Albus greeted, still curious. "I will be owling your parents once I leave here on the status of your brother," he said.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she answered, bowing her head in thanks.

"It is not a problem, Miss Black," he said. "Perhaps, though, I would recommend you leave Mr. Black to gain his rest, as Poppy has told me that he requires a great deal of peace and quiet."

Hermione nodded. She placed her hand on Sirius' bed for a moment and then sighed. With a nod that was barely perceptible, the two wizards in her company stood and stood at each of her sides, flanking her as she swept the room like a spring zephyr.

Albus saw a flower setting on top of the bed and looked more closely. Bright white petals surrounded a green and yellow centre.

It was a dogwood flower.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione sat with Lucius as they overlooked the lake together. The wind was blowing through their hair, kicking it up and flailing it about as it tangled with each other.

"How has your apprenticeship been going, Hermione?" Lucius asked with curiosity. His grey eyes flickered with a softness that he did not show to others in public.

"Professor McGonagall has been very good to me, Lucius," Hermione said. "She is quiet wise and patient with me."

Lucius smiled swiftly, and it was gone just as fast. "She is a woman of great integrity," he said in praise. "And she does us great honour by taking an apprentice from our number."

Hermione nodded. Minerva McGonagall was well known for her level head and protective natures, especially for her House, but unlike some professors, she was considered fair and honourable, which was high praise from Slytherin House. Unlike the Headmaster, whose notorious acts of favouritism were renown both near and far, Minerva's judgements were not contested. If someone was caught by Minerva for being truant, then the punishment was deserving and that was that.

"You seem stressed," Lucius said softly. "Will you allow me?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

Lucius turned her and began rubbing her shoulders until she was a puddle of goo.

"Mrrr," Hermione replied.

Lucius' touch was warm and firm, his thumbs dug into her stubborn muscles with a focused touch. "Is there a reason you are carrying the weight of Gringott's on your shoulder's, my Lady?"

Hermione sighed. "Someone drugged my brother."

Lucius froze for a moment. "What?"

"Madam Pomfrey says she's been dosed with malevolent mixture," she explained. "Chronically over the last few months."

Lucius rubbed her neck. "That is a nasty potion," he said. "Mulciber botched the brewing in Potions and ended up brawling with half of Slytherin and Hufflebuff before they stupefied him and dragged him to the hospital wing."

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked.

"Okay is…relative," Lucius confessed. "He used to be quiet and think things through, and now he's a big off. He tries to craft these horrible curses for enemies he doesn't even have."

"That doesn't sound very healthy," Hermione said with a sniff.

"We've been watching him," Lucius said. "His parents denied a problem and took him out of Mungo's after Madam Pomfrey had him see a Mind-healer. They've never been good at admitting they have a problem."

"Do you think he's still compromised?" Hermione asked.

Lucius nodded. "I'm trying to manoeuvre him into seeing the healer under the radar, but I fear I will have to hex him with something to get him there."

Hermione raised a brow. "Troublesome."

"Aye," he agreed.

Hermione turned. "May I return the favour?"

Lucius smiled briefly. "Of course."

Hermione turned and worked on Lucius' shoulder as he had done for her.

He grunted as she dug into his shoulders and rendered him into a purring example of Pure blood purity.

"And you speak of my shoulders like they are holding up the world," she clucked at him.

"Indeed I do, my Lady," he chuckled.

"What then, are you carrying upon yours?" Hermione asked.

"The moon, of course," Lucius replied.

Hermione laughed and dug her thumbs into the line of muscles going down his spine. Lucius purred like a Kneazle.

"I heard you assimilated Severus into the Black family over the Christmas holiday," Lucius said after she had worked him him like clay. He leaned back against the tree, allow her to share his space and lean against him.

Hermione chuckled. "Regulus assimilated him immediately. Nothing else was acceptable."

Lucius snorted with a small laugh. "I've heard your younger brother is quite the instigator."

"You have no idea, Lucius," Hermione said. "He can convince bees to part with their honey without getting stung."

"I look forward to seeing him in our House," Lucius said with a chuckle. "We could use a bee charmer."

Hermione laughed. "A bee charmer," he laughed. "He'll love that."

Lucius cracked a smile, tilted his head slightly to the side in amusement.

Hermione leaned into him, smelling the scent of sandalwood and musk mixed together in a way that was distinctively Lucius Malfoy. Part of Hermione was screaming that she shouldn't be sniffing Lucius Malfoy at all, regardless of what he smelled like. Even if he did smell like sandalwood, musk, and fresh dairy creme. Merlin!

Hermione cursed at her strange combination that made up her sense of self. It wasn't like she wanted to jump Lucius Malfoy's bones at the age of twelve, but she felt comfortable with him. Friendly even. And that alone sent that part of her that was Hermione Granger into a bit of a fit. The future Lucius Malfoy had been capable of many horrible things. He had done many horrible things, but this Lucius, this younger Lord that sat with her enjoying the lake with her, was just a young boy on the edge of becoming a young man. He was innocent of what his older possible self had done.

They communed together in silence, enjoying the lake together. There was a scraping of feet along the path that caused both of their heads to raise in curiosity. Usually, no one bothered the pair when they were together. Slytherin knew better than to interrupt Lucius when he did not specifically invite their company.

Hufflepuff didn't dare.

Ravenclaw simply knew better.

Hermione's lip witched. That left Gryffindor.

"Hermione!" Lily's voice greeted from the trail. She bounced towards them, completely oblivious to the invisible line that she had just blatantly crossed.

Lucius, immediately switching to his most formal of roles, stood immediately, placing himself between the red-headed witch and the young Lady Black.

"Hermione!" she said, bouncing on her toes to try and look over Lucius' shoulder and around him to get to Hermione. "Can I borrow your notes from Transfiguration? Frank blew mine up when Slughorn had me brewing with him today."

Lucius stiffened, his hand went behind him, gently touching Hermione's arm and keeping her behind him. "Miss Evans," Lucius greeted coldly.

"Hi, Lucius," Lily greeted, missing his flinch at the use of his first name. "

Hermione, sensing both Lucius' growing annoyance at Lily's utter lack of manners and her own rising ingrained response thanks to being born and raised into the House of Black, decided to take the brunt of conflict that was threatening to explode by redirecting it onto herself.

"Pray, my Lord, if it would not inconvenience you," Hermione said softly, dropping into a curtsy with practised grace. "I fear I left the notes Miss Evans wishes to borrow in my other book bag. I apologise for cutting our time short as I know your free time is precious to you."

Lucius Malfoy's eyes glared down at Lily. His voice was very tightly controlled as he replied, "Of course, my Lady," he responded formally. "I will, of course, escort you."

"Thank you, my Lord," Hermione replied, accepting his offer with a downcast of her eyes, yielding to his offer in both word and posture.

He held out his arm to her, and she wove hers around his to accept his escort.

Hermione's flip from casual to the formalities of accepting Lucius' escort and protection was as a natural as breathing to Hermione Ankaa Black. Such things were practically pounded into from the tender age of three. Vaguely, Hermione remembered her mother teaching her proper elocution, posture, and countless other niceties that had to be observed when in public. It wasn't to say she wasn't allowed to slack somewhat or that she wasn't allowed to be casual, because she found if she wasn't in a place where people were staring at them, the Black family life was not so different from the life she would have envisioned in her life as a Granger, had she been so lucky to have siblings.

Walburga had not slacked in her lessons. Hermione was her only daughter, and the task fell to her to insure that her daughter was properly prepared for the social web that was Pure-blood affairs. Orion's job, however, had been to instill the male version of such things into his sons, but while Regulus embraced the change from casual to formal with the affinity of a fish to water, Sirius took to it like a turkey into a campfire. Her twin was not well known for his ability to stir the Pure-blood crowds. He did, however, have excellent charm to turn the heads and hearts of Muggles non-Pure-bloods. There was a certain irony in that, that Hermione did not miss. The irony that Hermione would be the example of female Pure-blood manners was not lost on her either. Oh if Harry could see her now… what would the poor wizard say to her? Maybe after he pulled himself off the floor from a dead faint or a session of uncontrolled disbelieving laughter…

The walk back towards the Slytherin Common Room was uneventful. Some disbelieving looks came their way from a few groups of Slytherin, who eyed the trailing Lily as one would look at a puppy following after their person. None of them made eye contact with either Hermione or Lucius, however, preferring to avert their gaze unless addressed.

When the door to the Slytherin Common Room opened, Hermione left Lucius' arm, thanking him for his escort as she disappeared off towards the female dormitories.

Lily peered into the Slytherin Common Room curiously. It was obvious she wanted to go in and look around to assuage her bursting curiosity, but before she could do so and cause Lucius to loose all manner of decorum and rightly tackle her to the ground in front of witnesses, Hermione returned with a notebook in her hands.

"Here you go, Lily," Hermione said.

"Thanks, Hermione," Lily gushed. "I'll see you later at the library!" Lily scurried off without another word.

Hermione looked up at Lucius, whose eyes were half closed as he appeared to be counting to himself. She touched the back of her hand to his wrist and gave him a sympathetic smile. "I am sorry about that, Lucius," she comforted.

Lucius let out his breath slowly. "How do you tolerate her lack of propriety, Hermione?" His grey eyes met hers with a hint of his exasperation.

"Severus has been trying to… explain to her some of the things, but," Hermione trailed off as she looked down the hall where Lily had disappeared. "She does not feel it is her friend's place to teach her how to be a woman."

Lucius' lip curled slightly. "Dare I ask if you have tried?"

Hermione gave a tight smile. "She does not feel it is my place to teach her how to be polite to me, either," she said with a sad expression.

Lucius gave off an expression as if he were contemplating gum on the bottom of one's shoe. "She is your friend, I suppose," he said after a while, "so I will not call her out as I feel I should here at Hogwarts, but beware, my Lady. If she were to act as such in public and bring you dishonour on my watch, I feel my self control would be sadly… lacking."

Hermione tilted her head. "You honour me with your concern, Lucius. I do appreciate it."

Lucius gave a small nod, his nose slightly crinkling. "I am glad your chevaliers make up for her manners," he said softly. "Even the Gryffindor cub is dutiful and loyal."

Hermione smiled. "They bring me great peace, Lucius. I think my father is happy that I have people such yourself and them to keep me safe, though, I find it hard to believe anyone would assault me here within the walls of Hogwarts."

Lucius shook his head. "We are Slytherin, my Lady. We do not need to see our enemy to be prepared for them."

Hermione smiled. "Spoken as the Prince of Slytherin."

Lucius rolled his eyes, but his amusement flickered across them. He gazed at her as he took her hand and pressed his lips to the top. "I must take my leave, Hermione. I wish your brother a swift recovery."

Hermione smiled back at him, dropping into a small curtsy. "Thank you, Lucius."

The blond wizard gave the briefest of smiles before turning on his heels and disappearing down the corridor.

Hermione watched him go, and for perhaps the first time in her life, hoped very fervently that this Lucius Malfoy would not grow up to the one from her future past. She would miss him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Mother,

I am sorry to hear that there have been more attacks on the street in London. I am glad to hear that you and Regulus escaped unscathed from that horrible and utterly random mob.

The Prophet makes it sound like there is this large conspiracy, and the Muggle papers that I've managed to read make it sound like the work of deviant teenagers with nothing better to do. Seeing as both Muggles and Wizarding folk are being caught up in it, I'm sure the truth is somewhere in between, but I am gladdened to know that you and Regulus are well.

Father must be beside himself that you were caught up in that. I know I am, and I wasn't even there for it. He wrote saying that he was putting more protective wards on the house after the entire mob incident, and I suppose he has a right to be concerned. Part of me thinks its a bit overkill, but if I know my father, nothing is overkill when protecting his family.

I wanted to update you that Sirius is doing better. He cannot leave the hospital wing yet, and even when he can, Madam Pomfrey says he has a date with the Mind Healer to make sure there are no lingering after effects. I am glad she is taking his health so seriously. The potion he was dosed with is notoriously horrible and random on which parts of the brain it effects on each person. I'm just glad he's going to be okay. He may be complaining, but I think the precautions Madam Pomfrey are insisting on is nothing short of wise.

I have class here in a few minutes, so I must go. Please give my love to father and Regulus, and you have mine as well, my mother.

Your daughter,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Sleep. Yes. Zzzzz….


	20. Gaining Safe Passage

_"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost." -Arthur Ashe_

**Chapter 20: Gaining Safe Passage**

Remus lay on his belly, panting heavily. A pile of caught prey was gathering in a basket next to his heaving sides. His tongue was lolling out of the corner of his mouth.

Severus flew over him in a large spread of wings, his talons releasing a large fish into the basket as he flew over and then banked away. The fish flopped and heaved as it landed in the basket just before Hermione's wings blotted out the sun and she dropped a bunch of tree lichen and other spring plant samplings from the patch of forest they were in.

Remus lay on his side in the sun. The afternoon had been him chasing one rabbit after another, and the experience had indulged his inner wolf in a manner that seemed to make Tuft a very happy wolf. Now, both of them were united in exhaustion, and the pile of hunted rabbits only seemed to be a testament to how much work they had done together as one.

Severus released another fish into the basket and took on his human form, shrugging his shoulders as his robes fell around him with a flutter.

Sagacity hooted from nearby, having caught his own prey for the afternoon. The sinewy tail of some overly large rodent hung from the body under his talons. The huge owl tore into his prize without further ado.

"At least we aren't the only ones being successful hunters," Severus said with a raised eyebrow.

Remus' tail beat on the ground in agreement.

Hermione released a large cluster of sulphur shelf mushrooms into the basket and changed back into her human form with a warble of sound. She grinned as she appraised the large basket of spoils. "I think we have quite the collection of food here," she said with a grin. "Good job, everyone."

"You're looking awful smug, Remus," Severus said with a sniff.

Remus' tail wagged and he lolled his tongue.

Hermione hoisted up the basket. "It'll be a bit of hike to get to the place we need to go… unless you want to hug the basket and trust me, Remus."

Remus' ears perked forward. He stood up and assumed his human form. For a moment, it seemed his wolf ears were still on his head, perked forward in his insatiable curiosity.

Hermione grinned, knowing she had the attention of both man and wolf combined. She handed him the basket with wink.

Remus clutched the hefty basket, looking slightly nervous.

Severus clapped him on the shoulder, a quirk moved the corner of his mouth

Hermione flew up in a swirl of feathers and fire, warbling with a song that caused both boys to feel a bit braver. She curved her talons around Remus' shoulders and alighted upon him like a thunderbird, spreading her wings wide. She pumped her wings a few times and then went aloft, taking Remus and the basket with her into the air.

Remus gave an yell of excitement as his legs wriggled under him as the wolf of the earth gained flight.

Severus watched Hermione take their friend off over the forest canopy to the destination that only she knew. He leapt into the air, joyously embracing the skies and tearing off after the phoenix.

When they landed in the clearing, Hermione dropped Remus down with a gentle fanning of her wings and then transformed. She gathered stones and placed them in a circle then placed twigs into the circle.

"Severus could you collect some of the dry bark and lichen from the brush there?" Hermione asked.

Severus nodded silently. Hermione had drilled himself and Remus on the rituals of the centaurs until they could recite the words forwards and backwards. She was insistent that they learn the ways, the words, and the small details of things not to say to a centaur unless you wanted their hoof in your face right before their arrows.

"How do you know this stuff, Hermione?" Remus had asked as he tried to cram all the words with details into his brain.

Hermione's face grew wistful. Firenze, the patient and kind Firenze, had drilled the ways into herself and Minerva during their peace talks after the war. Magorian had taught them the rituals when meeting centaurs outside the herd as well. A part of her missed Firenze's patient teachings and warm personality. Magorian, who had started as being aloof and a bit a struggle to get to know thanks to his distrust of humans, had turned out to be a strong leader who truly cared for the fate of his people. All that he did was to protect their fate, and all his past mistakes, including the shunning of Firenze for a time, had also been a misguided attempt to assure their future.

"And friend taught me," Hermione said truthfully. "Seems like a dream now, from a different time, or a different age." Her expression was haunted, and her two friends saw the emotion and interpreted it the same: somehow she had a friend or mentor in the past that knew centaur ways and they had been lost to her.

The built the Peace Fire together, laying the lichen and moss upon the kindling, lighting it, and then adding more fuel until the fire burned hotly.

They heaved the basket of hunted food near the fire.

They stared silently into the flames of the fire, waiting patiently. It was a testament to their dedication, being as young as they were, to wait quietly by the fire for an undetermined length of time.

After about a half hour, there were hoofbeats in the dark, and centaur shapes materialised in the gloom of the forest.

"We arrive, herd-sister Hermione," Meliton announced as his trusted centaurs Solon and Theron nodded to her as they flanked their leader. "You are welcome, as always, amongst us. Who, however, soars on the wings of the eagle and runs upon the earth with four feet and finds themselves here at the Fire of Peace? I am Meliton, leader of the herd of the Dark Forest. Tell me yours that we may speak."

Severus and Remus startled, not realising that the centaur already knew their animagus forms without needing to be shown.

"I am Severus, Meliton of the Dark Forest herd. I come with peace in my heart that we may speak."

"I am Remus, and I too come with peace in my heart that we might speak.

Both boys bowed their heads in respect.

"This is Solon and Theron," Meliton introduced with a nod of his head.

"Peace to you, Solon and Theron," the boys chimed together.

The two centaurs nodded to them, their faces were surprised, but it was a welcome sort of surprise.

"What brings you here by the side of our sister of the herd, foals of Hogwarts? Militon asked, his voice a low rumble.

"We come asking permission of passage through your forest, Meliton, that we might hunt within your territory that our stomaches may not go empty," Severus said.

"We pledge to you that if there is anything we might hunt that you or your people may find of use and our hunger is sated, that we will bring it to you that it may not go to waste," Remus continued.

"If there is danger that threatens, we will share it with you, that you will not go into danger in ignorance," Severus said.

"We bring to you gifts, as evidence of our prowess, that we will not hunt without purpose or would our prey and leave it injured," Remus said.

Meliton listened to their formal declaration with interest. "What do you bring to us that would strengthen our herd?"

Severus and Remus moved the basket towards Meliton.

"We bring you this gift, as evidence of our prowess, that we will not hunt without purpose or wound our prey and leave it injured," Remus said the formal words to include both himself and Severus.

"We bring the power of our magic that it may protect those that are our allies," Severus said.

"We bring our skills as a hunter, that we may never go hungry," Remus said.

"I bring to you my oath, that I will protect the herd as my own," Remus and Severus said together.

"May the stars witness our oath," Remus said.

"May the planets bless our union," Severus finished.

The centaur gazed into the basket with interest and took note of the mixture of rabbits, fish, forest plants, and fruits gathered from the rare spring trees that produced fruit in the earliest season.

Meliton took one of the large fruits and held it out to Severus. Severus took a bite, chewed and swallowed, and Meliton did the same. He took another fruit from the basket and offered it to Remus, who took a bite, chewed and swallowed, and Meliton did the same. "Be welcome in our forest Severus of the skies and Remus of the moon. Hunt freely to ease your hunger and remember us when your stomach is full. Will you take the mark of our herd, that we might recognise you in peace and in war?"

"This I do freely," Severus and Remus replied formally.

"May the time we share be of peace, but if war rises in the stars," Severus started to say.

"May we stand as allies in the face of danger," Remus finished.

Meliton dangled his medallion into the embers to heat it, then pressed it behind Severus' ear. Severus winced in pain, but made no effort to pull away. Meliton chewed a plant a moment then pressed it to the burn, easing the burning of the mark for him. He repeated the gesture for Remus, and the sandy-haired wizard gave a soft lupine whine, but did not struggle. As Meliton pressed the chewed plant to his mark to ease the discomfort, Remus sighed in relief.

"The stars and planets witness your marks, Severus and Remus of Hogwarts, and they witness your rebirth," Meliton said formally. "Be welcome amongst our herd and our territory, hunter eagle and hunter wolf, foals of Hogwarts. Come, follow us that you may meet the herd."

"Sing to me your song, herd sister," Meliton said, tapping his shoulder. "And I will share with you the news."

Hermione swapped her shapes and landed upon his shoulder delicately, carefully wrapping her talons upon his shoulder as to not dig her claws into his skin. She warbled and let loose her song, filling the clearing with a melody that seemed to seep into their hearts and fill them with joy.

Solon picked up the offering basket and carried it with them as Theron brought up the rear. Meliton lead the herd's two newest allies into the Dark Forest towards where the herd was camped.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was dark when Severus, Hermione, and Remus landed on McGonagall's window porch, and the elder Animagus let them in when Hermione tapped on the window pane.

Remus brushed off his robes as he patted the pine needles out of his creases and pockets. Severus eyed the pine needles Remus was brushing off onto him with an arched brow of semi-annoyance.

Minerva let them in with a nod. McGonagall agreed to allow the animagi trio to do their romping when the rest of the students would be less likely to see them cavorting around on the greens with one stipulation. Whatever the time, save on their bingo nights when she knew where they'd be, that they come and tell her what they were up to and where they would be romping a round. She gave them permission to land on her small deck off her chambers to check in when they returned. She seemed to understand that the desire to frolic in their new forms was strong, but she instilled in them not to flaunt their abilities to others, hence the secrecy and willingness to allow them time to "play" together in the off-hours.

The trio agreed with her. Remus of all people understood the need for secrecy, and the two Slytherin ate, breathed, and slept in a House of secrecy. The bond between the trio was growing strong with every passing day, but the bond between the trio and McGonagall was slowly growing into an easy trust. She trusted them to report their activities and know where they were, and they trusted her to have their backs. She seemed to realise that what she taught Hermione as her Apprentice was also teaching her stalwart friends, and that met her approval rather than the lack. Gryffindor House had always valued the concept of loyalty, and she saw it growing stronger each day between the one-shy Gryffindor werewolf and his Slytherin friends. Minerva also valued knowledge and the banishment of ignorance, and she liked what she was seeing between the three. Their lack of prejudice and their hunger for knowledge gave her hope for the future.

Minerva had taken the role of both mentor and mother, guiding them as she could in their combined studies, helping them with their projects, and keeping the law when it was necessary, trying to turn their budding mischief and cunning channelled into activities that provided learning for their future. She wasn't above doling out punishment or taking points when their mischief did rear up in some way, such their sneaking into the kitchens to raid it for snacks sneaking into the restricted section and causing Madam Pince to have a coronary when some of her books mysteriously moved around on their own.

"You can get a pass from me at any time during the day," Minerva had admonished. "Why sneak into the restricted section at night without it?"

The trio had stared at their feet as they withered under Minerva's reprimanding gaze as they revealed their research on human and centaur relations. Minerva had docked them points for skulking about, given then detention with Madam Pince helping her shelve books for an evening, and then helped them round out their research after it was all said and done. It was a delicate balance between fairness and encouragement, yet the trio didn't blame the elder witch. In Minerva they saw a teacher, a firm handed mother, and someone who both supported them and did not coddle them. They knew they could rely on her when it mattered.

"The centaur have news, my Master," Hermione said as she swept in from the door.

"They caught a student roaming the Dark Forest a few days ago," Severus said.

"There was some evidence there was more than one, but one was the only one they saw with their eyes," Remus said with a nod as he entered the room.

"Meliton sent back the one student they saw… was my brother," Hermione said with furrowed brow. "The description was unmistakable. They escorted him out, but… Meliton said that they smelled someone had been with him. They searched the forest, but found nothing."

Minerva summoned her tea service from the side of the room, pouring the tea into the cups and gesturing to them to take it. She sipped her own tea thoughtfully. "Did they say why he was out there?

Severus paused drinking and said, "They said he was following a friend and became lost. They believed him."

Minerva rubbed her temples. "I can thank Merlin that the centaur are more tolerant of what they consider foals compared to how they treat adult intrusions into their territory."

"Do you have many dealing with the centaur, Master?" Hermione asked.

Minerva sat down on the couch and gestured for the trio to gather around her. They sat on the floor, staring up at her like young children excited to hear a story, and perhaps it wasn't so far from the truth.

"When I was but a wee lass," Minerva began her story. "I lived in a small hamlet on the outskirts of Caithness where the weather would shift from sunny and warm to a blizzard the next thanks to the storms brewing in the mountains.

"My parents worked in the village. My _athair_, my father, he was a minister. My mother gave up her witch legacy out of love to be with him. While my father worked hard to better the community in which they lived, my mother ran a small apothecary and herbal shop. She made sachets of herbs and candles for Muggles, and in the back of the store. I suppose, in her own way, she didn't completely give up her heritage. She loved that shoppe with strength that rivalled only that of her husband.

"I was the first born in my family, but I was not the last. My brothers Robert and Malcolm, they came after. My parents had to work extra hard to ensure we were all well provided for.

"I caused a bit of… drama with my parents. When I was a child, I was magical. I would summon my toys, charm the family cat, and make my athair's bagpipes play by themselves to amuse myself," Minerva said with a chuckle. The trio looked up at her with interest, enthralled by her story.

"My mum, well," Minerva said. "She used to have me join a group of other children in the village with one of the older grans that loved to watch over us. It wasn't anyone's fault, really. The weather changed while we were out on the moors, and in the freak snow storm, I wandered into the woods to escape the storm, and the others went other ways."

"It wasn't the best decision I could have made at the age of four, but to my defence, I was only four," Minerva chuckled.

Hermione, Remus, and Severus chuckled, and Minerva passed the the nearby tin of biscuits to them to share.

"I wandered aimless in the cold and the increasing dark," Minerva continued. "I grew tired and hungry and so many other things a child would feel lost and alone.

"But, I wasn't alone for long. A centaur had been watching me. Distant at first, but as he realised I was going the wrong direction in order to leave, he drew closer. When I started to sit down and cry, he came in closer. He comforted me. He kept me warm. He shared his food. And when I was no longer sniffling into his fur, he guided me to the edge of the forest where the adults had started to gather looking for me. I ran out to meet my parents, crying in my happiness to see them again, but when I turned around to tell them who had helped me, he was gone. No trace of him. And for some reason, I knew that he was a secret. My secret.

"After that I'd sneak out to the moors whenever I could. I became a bit of a miscreant in how well I slipped out. I would go into the forest hoping to find him, and if I waited long enough he would come, keep me company, tell me stories, and then lead me to the edge of the forest again to the exasperation of my parents," Minerva smiled at the memory.

The trio nibbled on their biscuits, fascinated by the story of their professor being a bit of a mischief maker in her own right.

"He was my special friend, and while I never met others like him," Minerva said wistfully, "He helped me in a way my mother could not. He taught me stories of the stars, the movements of the plants, and taught me some control over my magic I hadn't even realised was magic.

"I think my mother knew that I had found a special friend," Minerva said wistfully. "She was more calm when she 'found' me every evening. She never tried to stop me from 'escaping' the house to go out to meet him."

Minerva chuckled. "Maybe I wasn't as sneaky as I thought I was."

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances with a smile.

Minerva refilled their tea and sat back, sipping her own tea thoughtfully. "When I got my letter for Hogwarts, so many years had past, and I had not even noticed. He wished me well on my grand new adventure. He asked if I would take his mark… that it would give him great honour if I would. I hadn't known what that meant. It hurt like hell until he put some sort of chewed plant on it." She rubbed the area behind her ear almost reflexively.

"It wasn't until I… exercised a bit of my wanderlust into the Dark Forest and ran into the herd here that I realised the significance of what he'd given me. Kinship with the centaur people. Acceptance into another herd. The centaur that had taken me under his protection had been the last of a herd in the forest where I grew up. His herd had been lost in an out of control forest fire a few years before I was born. He had lost everything, and somehow, he had found me, a young witchling child, instilled me with the stories of his people, and then set me free to explore my new adventures."

"Did you meet up with him again?" Remus asked. "When you went home during the summer?"

Minerva seemed sad. "I never saw him again. His job was done. He had freed me, and in so doing, was free to find his fate somewhere else."

Severus bit his lip. "Did Meliton's herd adopt you?"

Minerva nodded. "It was Meliton's father that adopted me into the Dark Forest herd. I visit them when I can, but I fear I had more freedom at your age than ever I do now."

The trio exchanged glaces and digested what she had said.

Severus seemed to realise something. "Is that why you supported us in learning more about the centaurs?"

Minerva smiled knowingly. "Indeed, Mr. Snape. It is rare to find those your age so dedicated to the learning of the magical creature cultures. I see that you have been successful in the rituals," she said, tapping the area behind her ear.

The magical mark was easily hidden in their hair, barely even seen by the typical eye, but to the centaur, the marks were a beacon wreathed in the herd's innate magic. They were a part of the herd from the moment their oath was taken and the mark pressed to their skin. They were family by choice, and unlike those who came to parlay with the centaur from the Ministry, they knew those bound to the herd would protect the herd. The magic and their oath was something that could not be reneged upon at some later date.

The trio nodded to Minerva.

The elder animagus smiled. "You are a very special group of people, my young students. The gifts you have been given are many and significant, much as the trials you have been given. I hope it is not too much responsibility for those still so young."

Hermione, Severus, and Remus tilted their chins up and looked at her in resolve. They shook their heads together. Come what may, they would stand together.

Minerva nodded. "I shall meet with Meliton and confirm what you have brought to me, so when the question of how I came to know of it, you do not have to be brought into the light. My connection to the centaur is on record, but I have a feeling that it would be prudent to keep your first year exploits a secret just a bit longer along with you propensity to go gallivanting in the fields at odd hours chasing your tails by moonlight."

The trio sighed with relief and nodded in appreciation. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," she said gently. "Just so you know," she added with a serious glance. "We'll be asking for students to filter to Madam Pomfrey for a cursory scan to see if they have been effected by the same thing as your brother, Hermione."

Hermione perked.

"We're calling it a wellness check, of course," she said with a clucking noise. "But do not be surprised if are also asked to go in."

"Yes, Master," Hermione answered. "I understand."

"Well then, I think it's time for you all to be getting some sleep in your own beds, hrm?" McGonagall's knowing smile was both stern and warm at the same time.

"Yes, Master," the three chimed together.

Minerva shook her head. Somehow, in the course of less than a year, she had not gained simply one official apprentice, but two unofficial apprentices. To think that a year previous she was worried that her life had become to boring. "Off you go then," she shooed them out of her chambers.

The trio beamed at her, placed their used tea cups on the tray, gave her a cursory boy of their heads, and scampered out the door.

Minerva watched them go with a smile smile on her lips. It was a pity that Albus believed her "pet project" as being a futile one. If he would just put aside his belief Slytherin House held more trouble than honour, perhaps he would have noticed that there was far more honour and potential for loyalty within its ranks than he ever gave the House credit for. He had agreed to her having an Apprentice after the fact, if only to placate the temperamental Scottish witch, but what he didn't seem to realise was that her growing bond with both her apprentice and her apprentice's friends was giving her priceless something she had thought lost to her—children.

Woe be to any who stood between the lioness and her cubs—even the cubs who sported scales instead of fur.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hermione!" Narcissa flopped on the bed beside her, sending Hermione's books bouncing.

"Hey," Hermione said with a grin.

"I hear you took a walk with our Prince," Narcissa said, wiggling her eyebrows. "How was it?"

Hermione shook her head. "It was a walk," she said with snicker. "The air was fresh and the walk relaxing, if that is what you mean."

Narcissa pouted. "I will admit to wanting some more juicy details. He's the reigning Prince after all."

Hermione waved her hand imperiously. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"He actually takes time to talk with you, Hermione," Narcissa bugged her. "Doesn't that interest you? My parents think I should try and gain his favour more obviously."

Hermione rolled her eyes to look at Narcissa. "Do your parents truly think that begging his attention is going to make Lucius Malfoy do anything he doesn't already want to do?"

Narcissa slumped. "You're right, you're right. It's just that's he so enigmatic. A mystery. What does Lucius Malfoy talk about when you walk? Is he interested in normal things?"

Hermione raised a brow. "Like what… shoes?"

Narcissa threw a pillow at her, which hit Hermione in the face.

Hermione placed her hand on the pillow and drew it under herself. "I fear I have no idea what you speak of, Narcissa. We talk about school. Professor McGonagall… the effective counter curse against the jelly-leg jinx. There is nothing exotic about it."

Narcissa pushed out her bottom lip in a pout. "Bother."

The part of Hermione who had already gone through the many years of puberty, knew exactly what kind of juicy gossip that Narcissa wanted, but the part of Hermione that was born, raised, and teethed to be Slytherin kept such things just out of Narcissa's wistful reach. She had no doubt that in a different life, Ginny and Narcissa would have enjoyed sitting together exchanging gossip and wardrobe coordination. Ginny had actually been quite good at accessorising, Hermione knew. Just because she was born into a poor family did not mean she could not appreciate style and colour.

"I heard that your friend, Lily is it?" Narcissa started. "She interrupted you at the lake."

Hermione put down her quill. "Yeah," she said truthfully. "She really knows how to push our Prince's buttons… and not the good ones."

Narcissa turned her chin up. "It's like she's trying to get him to lose his cool, Hermione. Surely you've tried to tell her what thin ice she's treading on?"

"I've tried, Narcissa, I really have," Hermione said. "It's like we speak a different language. Even Severus has tried to teach her some of the more obvious etiquette when around Lucius, but she always tells him he's being presumptuous that she doesn't know how to act in public."

"But she doesn't know how to act in public," Narcissa protested.

"Pot meet cauldron," Hermione said with a sigh.

"I know she's your friend and all," Narcissa said with concern, "but if she treats you like she does here out in public somewhere. Merlin forbid in London or even Hogsmeade where people know you or your family, she's going to be called things… not nice things, and probably right to her face as well as behind her back."

Hermione didn't need to be told what Lily would be called. The ultimate insult to both breeding and manners. Mudblood. Until Hermione's "new" life as it were, she had no idea the amount of disdain went behind the name. It wasn't just about breeding as much as it was insult to their complete lack of respect to some of the Wizarding traditions that went back more years than what could be considered the foundation of Muggle modern society.

By the time Hermione Granger had come to school, the term had lessened in its dire implication to one whose parents were Muggles, but here, just a few decades previous, the term was so much more. She had no doubt that when Bellatrix Lestrange had carved it into her arm that she had meant the words every hateful implication. When she thought of Walburga's portrait back in nineties, she wondered what grievous insult had turned she who was now her mother into someone as blindly hateful as her possibly future self.

Narcissa chewed her lip. "Hermione?"

"Hrm?" Hermione lifted her head.

"Do you want me to… try and speak with her?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione blinked. It was a big service Narcissa was asking to take upon herself, to teach a Muggle-born witch Wizarding manners in order to keep her from embarrassing herself and Hermione in public.

"You would do this?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa shook her head. "Hermione, she's your friend, and as your friend and cousin, it is my duty to insure that nothing stains upon your honour, either. Besides, I am from an older class. Perhaps, she will listen to me."

Hermione looked dubious, but nodded her head. "If you could break through to her, my cousin, it would be greatly appreciated. I do not, however, hold you accountable if she shoves the offer back into your face."

"Perhaps, cousin," Narcissa said with a purr. "I shall just shove it right back!"

Hermione lifted a brow and smiled. "Indeed," she answered, tapping one finger to her temple. "Perhaps you should."

Sagacity hooted from his perch by the bed, but whether it was in agreement or not, was yet to be seen.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

**A/N:** Here's a question for you faithful readers. Do you think that Lily, or at least the Lily of this story, would want an equal chance at the potions apprenticeship (and thus possibly steal it from Severus in her desire to succeed/prove herself better) rather than stick to the plan of working on it together for Severus to get his chance at it?

I've been rolling it around in my head, and I think she would end up demanding a "fair" chance at it, thinking that since she put in her time for the potion that it would be her "right" to claim the apprenticeship as well. Hermione and Remus, as we know, are not trying for it because they want Severus to have it. Hermione is already apprenticed, and Remus is just ecstatic at the prospect of something out there to help other werewolves live semi-normal lives. Lily is the only free radical of the equation, and I find myself thinking that she would (intentionally or no) sabotage Severus' future career in her effort to be seen as a competent witch (ie not a freak.)

As one of my reviewers so astutely said, Lily and Petunia could very well be two peas in a pod, the only difference is Petunia stands on the Muggle side, and Lily on the Wizarding side. And while this is only speculation, since JKR is not here to interview about how she sees it in her mind, if Petunia had been the one who was magical and Lily the Muggle, would it have been so different?

Regardless, the formulae they are working on is actually Snape's from the future. Hermione knows this, which is part of why she wanted Severus to get the credit for it—something he never did in his lifetime. If Lily reaps the rewards for their combined work and takes that credit from Severus, I do not see her reacting well at all, nor do I see Remus taking it well either.

By all means, please ring in and give me your thoughts, my lovelies. Until the next chapter.


	21. Potion Master Board Dinner - Phase One

**Chapter 21: The Potion Mastery Board**

All of the potential candidates for the Potion Mastery Board's current applicants were gathered in the dining hall in London. There were hundreds of people there, socialising with the Board in the hopes to interest the Board members in their projects.

Professors Horace Slughorn and Minerva McGonagall stood by their students. Slughorn, ever the diplomat, did the formal introduction, and Minerva protected her students from being bombarded with excess attention because of their age.

"Necessity is the mother of invention," she said, "and age is hardly a block for inspiration."

Severus stood in his formal robes, which had been an exciting day for him at the tailor in Diagon Alley. Minerva had taken them all to get their formal robes for the event, knowing that presentation was a great hurdle in such events. One could hardly show up in Muggle jeans and a sweater and expect to be taken seriously at the Potion Board's formal dinner.

Remus looked decidedly uncomfortable in his dress robes. The werewolf was not used to such formal attire, nor having so many eyes looking upon him like he was a fish in a fishbowl.

Lily was dressed in a dark crimson and gold gown she had chosen from a slew of others at the store, her desire to show off her House colours telling the world that subtly was overrated.

Hermione was wearing dress formal apprentice attire, her dark black robes hung about her shoulder like silken wings. The formal pins of her Master, her speciality, the seal of Hogwarts, and the more discreet Animagus registry pin were all adorning her collar like the bands of service on a general's chest. Minerva had even pinned her with the regal lion of Gryffindor to mark the House of Hermione's Master, but she had also pinned the emerald and silver snake of Slytherin upon her collar as well, to mark her current House. Hermione had fussed that she was feeling like she was being trussed up like some sort of target, but Minerva had assured her that her looking all official would do nothing but help their presentation.

There were other presenters from Hogwarts joining in on the dinner, and Slughorn was dutifully introducing them to the Board and the other officials as well, but Minerva stayed with "her" cubs, even though her eyes flicked over to watch over the other students to insure they, too, were not being hassled overly much.

It was only one dinner of many, Slughorn had informed them. There would be countless more. The first of those with horrible ideas would be weeded out first, and one by one, the dinners would bring down the candidates to a more manageable level. In the meantime, all the groups were expected to keep up on their work, and by the time all the dinners were done, they were expected to present their finished potion to the Board and then the Board would decide which of the talented and perhaps even lucky people would win the accolades and the coveted apprenticeship.

It wasn't, Hermione knew, that Slughorn couldn't just take an apprentice if he really wanted to. After all, he was a Master of Potions himself and had the right, just as Minerva did, to take an apprentice of his choosing. Slughorn, however, would find the esteem of having one of them as his apprentice after they wooed the Potion Mastery Board and succeeded in creating a successful potion. Each of them would be highly regarded, if it were to come to pass, and taking one of them as an apprentice would only be icing on his cake. Also, if the Board awarded the apprenticeship, that lucky student would not have to pay for the registration fees, robes, paperwork, and countless other things that the Black family and Minerva had already taken care of for Hermione.

Hermione grinned at Severus, her eyes raking down his robes with approval. Severus averted his eyes in a sudden shyness that made Hermione grin even broader.

Lucius and Hermione had helped him dress, drilled him on proper behaviour in public, and the best ways to look intelligent without looking like he was entitled. Severus had taken the impromptu lessons with finesse, grateful that he was less likely to make a fool of himself in public.

They had pulled Remus aside before they left, and given him the same drill, and Remus' eyes were so wide as he tried to imitate the Slytherin Prince, that Hermione giggled into her hand and Severus snickered that finally there was someone more awkward in the prospect of social acrobatics than he was.

Hermione had desperately tried to get Lily to stand still long enough for her to give her some pointers before the dinner, but Lily had turned her nose up at her, saying she was perfectly capable of being polite in public without lessons.

Hermione and Severus pinched the bridge of their nose at exactly the same time. Remus had looked completely embarrassed.

"Lily, please," Hermione begged her. "Just let me give you a few pointers before we go to the dinner."

Lily whirled on her, green eyes flashing. "Do you think me an idiot?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide even though the part of her that was utterly the daughter of Walburga Black was threatening to say some very unflattering things. "I don't think you're an idiot, Lily. I just think you should know a few subtleties before we go."

"I'm perfectly capable of giving a curtsy when someone looks down their nose at me, Hermione," Lily snapped.

Hermione stiffened. Her eyes faded into a silver so pale that they seemed like molten glass. Her fingers twitched, threatening to stretch into talons. She clenched her jaw together, and then her eyes Occluded, her posture drew her up taller, and her jaw aligned, and there was nothing in her expression at all but stony impassiveness.

Hermione Ankaa Black stared down at Lily Evans, with a curl of her lip that echoed her mother and a certain Potion Master that scowled over the cauldron's of countless first year students.

Hermione had turned her back to Lily and ended the "conversation."

"Ah, Master McGonagall," a kindly looking wizard approached the table. "Good to see you again, my old friend."

"Master Barberry," Minerva greeted with a tilt of her head, one equal to another.

"I have not seen you at these wondrous dinners in quite some time, my friend," Barberry said with amusement. "What finally lured you out to us?"

Minerva laughed as the other Master took her into a hug. Barberry looked genuinely happy to see her. "A group of my students, which happens to include my new Apprentice, have been working on a fascinating project, Master Barberry. Have you heard of it?"

Barberry shook his head. "I am not quite curious, my old friend," he said. "Pray, I would love an introduction."

Minerva smiled and placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Master Barberry, this is my apprentice, Hermione Black. She has become quite adept in transfiguration in only her first year. I am positive that by the time she graduates, she will be a Master in her own right."

Barberry's eyes widened. "Apprentice Black," he said with wonder.

Hermione extended her hand, falling into a formal curtsy. "Pleasure, Master Barberry."

Barberry took her hand gently, lowering his head in a bow to press his lips to the top of her hand. "Your family must be very proud."

"They are, Master," she said with a nod as she straightened her posture.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Apprentice Black," Barberry said. "I look forward to hearing your presentation later tonight."

"Thank you, Master Barberry," Hermione answered. "I hope you find it as fascinating as we did researching it."

Barberry regarded her with an upturned chin, but it was not unkind. "I'm sure I will. I expect nothing less from one from the illustrious House of Black."

Hermione bowed her head in respect.

"This is Severus Snape, Master Barberry," Minerva introduced.

Severus bowed his head in deference. "Delighted to meet you, Master Barberry."

"A pleasure, young man," Barberry said. He extended his hand, and Severus took it, clasping it firmly. "I take it you are confident that your project will take the world by storm?"

"We hope so, Master Barberry," Severus answered, directing the credit to the group.

Barberry nodded in approval.

"This is Remus Lupin, Master Barberry," Minerva introduced.

"Lupin," Barberry said, his eyes looking far away a moment. "Son of Lyall Lupin, yes?"

Remus tilted his head in deference. "Pleasure to meet you, Master Barberry," he said formally. "Lyall is my father, Sir."

They shook hands. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lupin," he said with a smile. "It has been years since I have heard from your father, Mr. Lupin. I would appreciate it if you gave your parents my regards that I hope they are well."

"I will do so, Master Barberry," Remus said with an agreeable nod.

"Excellent," Barberry said with a smile. "Have you completed your research?"

"We have, Master Barberry," Remus replied. "We are currently working on the brewing process to make a stable and reproducible distillation."

"That is wonderful progress," Barberry said with a nod. "I look forward to hearing about your project and the results."

Remus bowed his head. "Thank you, Master," he replied humbly.

"This is Lily Evans," Minerva introduced.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Barberry," Lily said, sticking out her hand for him to shake.

Master Barberry blinked, taken a little aback. He took her hand, turned it to the side, and attempted to place his lips to the back of her hand awkwardly, but the movement of his hand to do so seemed like a shake and Lily pulled her hand back.

"Pleasure," Barberry said at last, collecting his dignity after the strange social awkwardness. "Tell me, Miss Evans, what do you think of all of this?"

"I think it's wonderful," Lily replied. "Especially since it gives all of us a chance to bring something good to the world and further our education."

"Indeed," Barberry said, tilting his head. "And what do you think of the prospect of an apprenticeship?"

"I think it would be wonderful," Lily said. "It would be such a boon to the one of us that is chosen."

Master Barberry lifted his chin and then shook his head. "Indeed it would be, Miss Evans," he said after a moment. "Master McGonagall," he said with a warm smile. "It was a pleasure, as always."

Minerva held out her hand and bowed her head slightly as Barberry took it and gently placed a kiss to the top of her hand. "And you, Master Barberry."

The elder wizard nodded and continued his flitting about the dinner to chat with the various tables.

"Phew," McGonagall said, sitting down in the chair. "You can sit now, children. You have passed the first hurdle."

Hermione, Remus, and Severus sat down with a relieved sigh. Lily was already sitting and looking around the room with curiosity.

"How long have you known Master Barberry, Master?" Hermione asked.

Minerva chuckled. "Since my first year out of Hogwarts," Minerva said. "He was my sponsor when I studied for my mastership in Transfiguration. He is the one that made sure I accepted it, lest he track me down somewhere in the world and come knocking."

The trio widened their eyes, excited to hear the newest story.

"Somehow, Master Barberry managed to get my N.E.W.T. scores in Transfiguration, and he was bound and determined that I not waste my opportunity to excel," Minerva said with a chuckle. "He is the one who set me up to Apprentice with Professor Dumbledore, ironically, and he was also the one who taught me to be an Animagus."

The three sets of eyes belonging to her adopted cubs stared at her with burning curiosity.

"He's also a Master of Transfiguration?" Severus asked.

Minerva nodded. "He is a man of many talents, Mr. Snape. His knowledge of Herbology is renowned, his talent in Potions is considered an art form, and his foundations in Transfiguration is approached by few."

Minerva leaned in. "Tell me, can you guess what he is?"

Severus, Remus, and Hermione stared as politely as possible at Barberry as he walked around the tables.

"Robin," the trio said together.

Minerva laughed. "Very good," she chuckled. "I'll be sure to tell him that his secret is out."

They grinned back at her.

"What is the appeal?" Lily asked suddenly. "Why be an Animagus?"

Minerva leaned back in her seat, tilting her head to the side. "Hrm," she said. "I'm not sure if it can be explained, Miss Evans. It is either something you do because you have a driving use for it or something you are called to do."

"Called to do? Be an animal?" Lily said, shaking her head.

Minerva furrowed her brows. "When I studied to become one, it was something I was driven to do as a master of studies. I wanted to do it because it would challenge me. It was only later when I realised that I quite enjoyed being a cat. It allowed me connect with a part of myself I didn't really admit I had until then. Other people have various reasons, I think. They are quite varied. It takes a great deal of focus, however."

Lily shivered. "I don't know, it just seems… I would never want to stick out like that."

Lily missed the exchanged looks from the trio, but Minerva did not. "It's not for everyone, Miss Evans. I've taught third years about the transformation of human to animal for years, but I can count on one hand the ones that were dedicated enough to pursue it to actually go through the trouble of registering legally and finding a Master to teach them properly. That is why so many fail at it or have… accidents."

"It's the accidents that make me nervous," Lily said. "I wouldn't want… I can't even imagine," she trailed off.

"Ahh, the Board is ready to hear your proposal," Horace said as he approached the table. "Are you ready?"

They all stood up from the table and shuffled after Slughorn, following him into an adjoining room.

"Welcome," said a wizard at the front table.

"We have a scribe here to record everything, and the formula will be registered under your names regardless of the competition," a wizard said, stroking his beard. "We wish to protect your hard work, and it will also keep others from poaching your idea and passing it off as their own."

"Thank you for having us," Hermione said formally, bowing slightly.

"Names of your sponsors?" one witch asked.

"Master of Transfiguration and Professor Minerva McGonagall," Hermione said, "and Professor Horace Slughorn."

"Please, tell us the name of your potion," an elderly witch said.

"Wolfsbane Potion," Severus answered.

Arched brows went across the table.

"Please explain the purpose of said potion," a witch said.

"To balance the solar and lunar aspects of those inflicted with lycanthropy to bring peace to their minds during their transformation," Remus explained.

"When taken, it will allow the werewolf to retain his or her human mind, rendering them safe around humans without the drive to bite and infect them," Lily said.

Murmurs of comments went up and down from the table. Nods were exchanged.

"We do solemnly swear, that the information discussed here shall not leave the room, save for the official registry of the formula and its creators with the official potion registry and the private discussions that will occur in regards to the contest submission," the wizards and witches said the oath with their wands raised. A flash of light was shared between them. "Please reveal your formula."

Severus waved his wand and inscribed the base formula in the air. Hermione took out her wand and began to inscribe the arithmancy validation to the formula. Remus inscribed the work with solar and lunar balancing, and Lily inscribed the herb and plant substitution variations.

There was an active discussion at the front table as the scribe scribbled away furiously.

"This is an impressive formula," Master Barberry said from the front table. "I believe I am not alone in this belief. Master Highweather?"

An elderly witch nodded. "This is impressive work, and I am highly looking forward to see the finished potion at our next meeting."

Murmurs of assent went down the table.

An elder wizard gestured with his hand. "Thank you for your presentation, my young potioneers. We will file the proper paperwork to insure your formula is protected. We look forward to seeing your progress at our next meeting."

"Thank you for having us, Masters," the quartet chimed.

"Please, enjoy the dinner," the elder witch said.

As the four of them thanked the panel, they met up with McGonagall and Slughorn at the doors.

"Great job, great job," Slughorn said, patting them on the back.

"Very good presentation," Minerva said with a happy nod.

As they opened the door, the smell of a glorious banquet caused the quartet to light up with excitement.

McGonagall laughed as the children ran to their seats and sat down, bouncing with excitement. She sat down beside them and nodded to them that they could dig in. Slughorn nodded as he walked down the tables to the other Hogwarts entrants in the contest with a smile on his face.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione sat on Minerva's railing flower planter and let out a joyous string of happy notes, a warble, and then a full song. A breeze blew in off the lake, filling the air with the scent of water and lake plants, and Hermione sang a happy song to herself, the flowers in the planter, and to whoever might be listening.

It was a rare moment when there was no one around, and even her chevaliers were off being social amongst their other circles of friends. It made her happy to know that both Severus and Remus had found friends to hang out with and be what she knew they had not always been able to do in her original timeline.

Remus had, at least, found comfort in the Marauders, but he had never found peace with his wolf. Severus had found friends, if one could consider potential Death Eaters friends, but his teenage life had been far from peaceful either.

_"__I was not a prime example of social prowess as a teenager, Professor Granger," Snape's portrait had told her. "Asking me how I handled withdrawn students that were being picked on is probably not your best choice. However, if you need lessons in Occlumency, I could at least offer you pointers."_

_"__Why ever would Miss Granger require skills in Occlumency, Severus?" Dumbledore's portrait chimed in._

_"__Professor Granger," Snape corrected. "And to protect herself from busy bodies like you from rifling though her thoughts like a filing cabinet."_

_Dumbledore__'__s portrait had made a huffing sound as though that was hardly a good reason._

_Hermione, however, had been intrigued. __"__That would interest me, Severus," she had confessed to Snape's portrait. "Harry did try to give me pointers, but I fear his own skill in the subject…"_

_Snape curled his lip. __"__Potter is hardly a candidate for Occlumency success stories."_

_Hermione turned her head up. __"__I would like to learn, Severus."_

_"__Very well, Professor Granger. First, pick up that annoying Sorting Hat from the shelf over there and bring it here and we shall begin," Severus said with a sniff. "If you can hide things from that leather monstrosity, you can hide it from anyone…. You'll just have to tolerate its horrible songs until you get it right."_

_Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. It was going to be a long term._

Hermione sang another chain of happy notes, feeling wonderful for no other reason that it was great to be alive. The sun was shining, the breeze was perfect, and the last meeting with the Potion Mastery Board had gone very well.

Slughorn had deemed it a grand success, and Minerva had treated them and the other teams from Hogwarts to ice cream after the dinner. Despite the greatness of the feast they experienced for the dinner, Hermione admitted that the ice-cream had been her favourite part of the evening. She was pretty sure her friends were in complete agreement.

The other four teams from Hogwarts had done their presentations as well, and Slughorn seemed happy for them as well, and part of her wondered what they were working on. She knew none of the teams were sharing information, but the curiosity was making her itch.

Hermione saw a shadow pass over her head, and she looked up. Bright red and orange feathers carved a swath into the sky as Fawkes flew over. He banked into the air currents and doubled back. With a flutter of wing flaps, he landed in the flower planter with her and warbled a greeting.

Hermione blinked and let out a tentative string of notes.

Fawkes sang cheerfully to her.

Hermione attempted imitation. No one was more surprised than her when it worked.

Fawkes warbled. She warbled back. Fawkes chirped. She chirped back. They echoed each other, mirroring their movements down to the smallest head bob and wing flutter.

Hermione burst into song, and Fawkes answered her, his dark black eyes seemed to sparkle with curiosity.

Fawkes shuffled a little closer, and his head extended and he began to preen her head crest with his beak. The sensation caused her to chip happily. A good head rub could get you you many points to this particular phoenix, and Fawkes seemed to realise that it was the perfect way to get to know the new phoenix that had show up at Hogwarts.

Hermione wobbled back and forth to Fawke's ministrations. When he stopped, she sighed wistfully. He tilted his head at her and chirped.

Hermione slowly reached over with did him the same favour, and the brightly coloured phoenix chirped and warbled happily to the workings of her beak. Within a few minutes, there were two sleepy phoenixes nestled in Minerva's flower planter enjoying the afternoon weather.

After a few minutes, Sagacity landed in the flower box and nestled up next to Hermione, giving a soft hoot of contentment.

Minerva was going to need a larger flower box.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione's eyes widened as she returned to the Slytherin Common Room and saw knocked over chairs, planters, books, and a sculpture. There was a huddle of somewhat terrified looking first years in the corner being talked to by Lucius. Lucius looked furious, or rather, he looked perturbed, which was his equivalent of furious.

"You will respect this House as though it were your home," Lucius said venomously. "You will not engage in frivolous fights as though you checked your brains at the door and act like rampaging drunk Gryffindor. You are Slytherin, not participants in the San Fermin festival running the bulls in Spain."

The group of first years all looked sullenly down at their feet.

"Who started this?" Lucius growled.

All of the students looked away, trying not to implicate their fellows.

Lucius' fist clenched and his jaw tightened, causing the more flighty first years to not so subtly step away from one student in the mob in particular. Lucius narrowed his eyes and glared. "Mayworth," Lucius said with a tight smile that looked more like he was in pain. "Care to tell me why you thought throwing a three hundred year old sculpture at the wall was even remotely a good idea?"

"Aldebrie called me a pansy faced nancy," Mayworth said through gritted teeth.

Lucius raised a brow, turning to Aldebrie. "Did you, Aldebrie?"

Aldebrie gritted his teeth. "He deserved it."

"I did not, you gormless guttersnipe!" Mayworth yelled at him.

The other first years began a slow but not very subtle migration away from the two fighting students.

Lucius glowered as the two started to fight again, only this time their magic was starting to wick around them due to their lack of control. They threw themselves at each other with complete disregard for who was around them. Goblets, bowls, flower arrangements, and books starting whirling around the room.

Lucius cast a spell to stop the two from trying to beat the ever-living tar out of each other, but what stopped them physically was not stopping their out of control magic. It wasn't a specific spell to counter, it was simply out of control magic due to out of control will. Two owls that were just flying in to deliver mail got hit by flying debris, and one owl let out a terrible screech and fell to the floor while the other tumbled in the air and fluttered out of the common room in due haste.

Hermione dove towards the injured owl, dodging flying debris. Her hands scooped up the owl as she passed, ducking behind a pillar as a book barely missed her head. The owl hooted in distress, one wing hanging limply by its side. Hermione hunched over the owl, trying to protect it from further damage even as a book clipped her on the side of the head, causing her to yelp in pain.

Hermione rubbed her head, but remained protecting the suffering owl the best she could with the chaotic magic storm going around her. She managed to shield a little from the magic and flying everything, but she was coming to the fast conclusion that she preferred one on ones duels with Death Eaters to random magic loss of control storms. How did one protect one's self from chaos?

"What is going on here?" Order suddenly slammed into place as an irate looking Horace Slughorn descended upon his House. He waved his wand first to freeze all of the flying debris, and then, seeing where the source of the uncontrolled magic was coming from, slammed down some layered spells that contained the uncontrolled magic storms that were trying to tear his common room apart. Hogwarts itself was built to contain such things, and professors could, when needed, call upon it to contain events such as this, but it wasn't something commonly spoken of, and until Hermione had seen Slughorn to it, she had forgotten completely of the lesson Minerva had once given her on how to call on Hogwarts to contain magic.

Lucius stood up straighter, a trickle of blood moving down his hand and his head where debris had nicked him. "There was an argument, Professor Slughorn, and in my attempt to contain it, their magic went out of control."

Horace did not look very happy. Hermione peaked around the pillar, still cradling the poor owl in her arms, looking at how Slughorn's frown became anger. It was nothing compared to her memories of what the elder Snape was capable of just being in his class, but she had to admit that an angry Horace was something she didn't want a repeat performance of.

Horace seemed to realise something as he glowered down at the stupified students. "Lucius, Mr. Nylander. Take Adlebrie and Mayworth to the Hospital Wing and have her check them out. Such a loss of control is hardly normal this far into the term. I want to be sure it is not something serious before I start reacting to this mess."

"Yes, Professor," Malfoy and Nylander chimed together, hitting the two students with a levitation charm and dragging the affected students by their robes out of the Common Room portal.

"Apprentice Black," Slughorn greeted her softly. "What do you have there?"

Hermione, still cradling the injured owl, unwrapped the animal from her robes and showed her Head of House.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Slughorn clucked his tongue. "Come, follow me to my office, my chambers."

Hermione followed silently. The injured owl seemed to realise that she was there to help him, and snuggled into her arm with a soft hoot.

Hermione entered Slughorn's chambers and boggled at all the moving sculptures and metal devices that were scattered about. There was a pendulum clock, something that looked like balls striking each other, and an odd looking hourglass on his table.

"Please have a seat," Horace said, gesturing to a comfy looking armchair. He rustled around in a wooden supply cabinet that was full of bottles, containers, and miscellaneous.

He came back with a little gauze, some tinctures, and a flask of something that looked absolutely nasty in colour.

"Okay, let's have a look at our little friend," Horace said gently. He took out a cotton swab on a stick and dipped it into the nasty looking flask, blew on it, and watched the colour change from a horrible puke green to a bright orange. He dabbed the swap onto the owl's injured wing, watching it spread a pale orange glow over the owl's damaged wing. He unrolled the gauze and gently wrapped it around the wing, pinning it to his body. "There we go. He'll be right as rain in a few days, but until then, he's going to be a little grounded for a time."

The owl gave a relieved hoot, snuggling deeper into Hermione's robes. Hermione felt a stab in her heart for the little creature. Having been knocked out of the sky by a flying book was probably not what owls had been genetically predisposed to dealing with.

"I didn't know you were animal healer, Professor Slughorn," Hermione said.

Horace chuckled. "I'm not really, but, you live here at Hogwarts long enough and you pick up a few things after so many years. One thing we have a lot of are owls, and all of them are special to us. Some are familiars, some are devoted to our mail, and some seem perfectly fine doing whatever task see fit to give them. I admire them, in my own way. Can you imagine our lives without them?"

Hermione pondered a moment, staring down at the now sleepy owl in her arms. "No, I can't."

Horace saw the scroll still attached to the owl's foot. "Oh my, it seems the poor thing was delivering when he was so horribly knocked out of the air," he said with sympathy. "I'll just take it and give it to another owl so it gets where it needs to." He tugged the scroll of paper free from the owl's leg and smiled. "I hope it wasn't time sensitive."

Hermione shrugged. "At least it wasn't a howler."

Slughorn's eyebrows raised. "Quite right, Miss Black."

"Do you think he's someone's private owl?" Hermione asked. She checked the owl's leg for one of the school markers that designated that they belonged to Hogwarts versus a student.

"No band on the leg," Horace said thoughtfully. "Students usually have some sort of coloured marker on them. Family owls tend to have charmed bands on them to tell someone who they belong to. It is odd to see an owl here that has neither.

Slughorn shook his head. "We don't really have an animal infirmary. Sometimes we give the injured magical animals to Professor Kettleburn or the more mundane ones to the grounds keeper Mr. Hagrid, but…" he trailed off, staring at the owl tucked in Hermione's robes. "Perhaps you would like to care for him for a few days. Until he's better and able to fly again?"

Hermione beamed at him. "I'd love to. Sagacity loves company."

"Ah yes, the huge eagle owl, as I recall," Horace said.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, Miss Black," Horace said. "Just keep the bandages on him for about a week. You can take them off after that. He'll probably take a few days to strengthen his wing up after the bandages are removed, but then he should be able to fly off to wherever he was supposed to go after he delivered that mail."

"Okay, Professor," Hermione said with a smile. The owl on her arm hooted softly.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen what happened to cause that mess in the Common Room, Miss Black?" Horace asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid I got there just as things started to fly around." She pointed to the bruise on her head.

"How did I not even see that?" Horace said, horrified. "Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"

Hermione shook her head. "Just a little stunned, Sir. I'm fine."

"Hrm, well, just to humour and old wizard," he said, "please go see Madam Pomfrey after you set up your little friend for the night. I'll write you a pass to get through the halls."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied.

Horace grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a note down for her. "There you go," he said, handing her the note. "I suppose I should be walking up there myself to see what happened with your House mates as well," he said rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

Hermione nodded and stood. "Thank you for the help, Professor," she said, bowing her head slightly.

Horace nodded, waving her off casually. "Not a problem. Not a problem. Have a good evening, Apprentice Black."

"I will, Professor," she said with a tight smile, turned on her heels, and walked out of Slughorn's chambers with the owl tucked in the crook of her arm.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione slipped behind her twin on the cramped hospital bed, snuggling into him after she was sure Madam Pomfrey was occupied elsewhere.

Sirius, groggy and half delirious, still managed to gain enough coherency to pull her arms around him. Tendrils of their twin bond wove around them, driving some of the fog away from his mind.

"Hey, sis," he whispered.

"Hey, Canis," she replied softly, snuggling into him.

"Sorry for being a royal git," he apologised.

"You're forgiven for most of it?" She whispered.

"Only part?" Sirius said. She could practically hear his lip quivering.

Hermione snuggled into him. "You worried me sick," she said. I worry over you, and then I wanted to punch you."

"Punch me?" he replied. "Mother would so approve."

"Psh," Hermione snorted. "She might give me an Order of Merlin."

"Touché, sis," Sirius chuckled. "I've missed you," he added sadly.

"I've missed you too," she said, snuffling his back.

"Your friend, the one with the black hair," Sirius trailed off. "Does he… does he treat you right?"

"Severus?" Hermione asked. "Of course he does. He's been nothing but a good friend since day one."

"Peter and James," he said. "They think he's up to something. That he'll hurt you."

"People hurt each other," Hermione sighed. "But that doesn't mean they mean to. Look at us, brother."

Sirius touched her hand. "I know. And I know I shouldn't listen to them for everything. Peter told me you were out skulking around in the hallways the other night. Led me out into the Dark Forest looking for you. I ended up lost and caught by centaurs."

"Sirius," Hermione chided. "You could have been killed out there. Centaurs are really territorial."

Sirius sighed. "I know that… now. Peter was convinced you were up to something, and I wanted to see it with my own eyes because I didn't believe him. I didn't believe him, sis."

Hermione clutched his body. "Next time, just ask me, okay? Before you storm the forest and get attacked by angry centaurs?"

Sirius snorted. "I suppose." He patted her hand. "Madam Pomfrey says I should be good to go to the mind-healer soon. I don't feel like someone stuffed my head with angry cotton."

"Cotton gets angry?"

"The cotton my head does, trust me," he answered.

Hermione shook her head. "Doesn't sound very fun to me."

"Sis," Sirius asked. "Where you out in the Dark Forest Sunday night?"

Hermione sighed. "I was not out in the Dark Forest while you were out there getting almost killed by centaur."

"Ok, I realise that question was stupid," Sirius confessed. "It sounded better in my head."

"Your angry cotton filled head," Hermione said with a sniff.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Is your friend staying with us over summer holiday?" Sirius asked.

Hermione paused. "I'm not sure, brother," she confessed. "His home life is not," she paused, pondering. "It's not something I'd want to go home to. I can't say more than that."

Sirius seemed to ponder that. "Maybe this summer I can get to know him."

Hermione squeezed him. "I'd like that."

"Can you at least convince him to wash his hair?" Sirius whined.

"Sirius Black," Hermione beat on him with her hands. "It was your House mate that did that to his hair. It hasn't been decent since."

"What?" Sirius dripped disbelief.

"Lily Evans used his head to test her latest shampoo and conditioner project she's working on. Every month it's a different test. Every time she tests it on him, his hair ends up looking… well like that."

Sirius snickered into his pillow.

Hermione shoved him with her hand, causing her brother to cough.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "It's just… it looks like he never washes it is all."

"At least it smells wonderful," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"What, you go around sniffing the bloke's hair?" Sirius sputtered.

"I'm sniffing your hair right now, Canis, what's your point?"Hermione grunted.

"Oh," Sirius said. "Point made."

There were footsteps approaching, and Hermione leapt from the bed and moved to the nearby one, laying on her back and folding her arms to make it look like she was staring up towards the ceiling vaults.

"Ah, Miss Black, sorry about the wait," Poppy said. "I had to make sure that poor Mr. Anges had his medicine."

"No problem, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, sitting up.

"Well, let's take a look at you then," she said, pulling out her wand. She waved her wand over her head and clucked to herself. "Ah, good. I was pretty sure there was nothing when I looked you over when you came in, but I'm sure now that there is nothing we need worry about. You can return to your dorm now."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said with a nod.

"Here let me sign your slip so you can return without being hassled," she said, taking the paper slip and scribbling on it before handing it back. "Have a good night, Miss Black. Please get some rest."

"I will," Hermione promised.

Pomfrey nodded as she pulled the privacy curtains closed around Sirius so she could do whatever work she had to do.

Hermione sighed and squared her shoulders, walking back towards the dorms to where her soft bed awaited her.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Regulus,

The preliminary dinner for the Potion Mastery Board contest was really exciting. There were so many people there. We weren't allowed to speak of our projects to anyone but the actual Board, but they registered all of our formulae under our names including the process and theory so even if we don't win the contest, we still have our work recognised and registered for production if we so choose to. We're all very excited!

There were four or five teams total from Hogwarts, and Professor Slughorn thinks that we all have a really good chance of getting into the finals. I really hope we can win the contest, though, brother. It would mean so much to Severus to get the apprenticeship. Can you imagine the career he would have with a potions mastery under his belt before he even graduates?

The next dinner is going to be personal interviews, where they all talk to the group members separately and ask them what they think of the project, what their role is, and what they would do with the mastership sponsorship if they got it. We all have to say what we'd do with it, but Remus and I both know that we'll give ours to Severus if we win it. Not that I think I'll win it anyway, as I'm already fully apprenticed. I have enough on my hands! I don't need to be that greedy either. We'll all get some wonderful recognition if we win, anyway. Enough to open a lot of doors if we should need to. That's not a bad prize to have. I'm honestly not sure what Lily will do if she wins it. We all agreed that it was going to go to Severus at the start, but I can't help but think that now that she's so enraptured with succeeding with her shampoo and conditioner brewing line with her friends that she'll want a chance at it too. She's my friend, so I feel obligated to support her, but we agreed it was going to Severus, and you know what father and mother say about our promises. Mind you, it's not like we made a formal vow over it, but should we of had to? Father and mother always told us that we are nothing if we cannot keep our word and to never promise something idly. Better to say nothing at all than promise something and renege.

I have a new owl. No not forever. I'm taking care of one until he's better. He was injured as he was flying around to deliver something and someone's out of control magic hit him with flying debris. Poor thing. He's roosting with Sagacity. Sagacity seems to think the new owl needs mothering… or fathering as it were. He preens him and keeps him company. He's really sweet, actually, and has a soft hoot. He dropped a primary feather a few minutes ago, probably due to the stress. I'm enclosing it for you because it's really beautiful. I'm sure you'll appreciate it.

Please give my love to mother and father.

All my love,

Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Sorry for the delayed updates. I got really distracted between all the homework, all the studying, writing a short called _For the Love of Water_, and trying to finish up _Looks Can Be Deceiving_ because it was there first! Lol. Until next time! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	22. You've Got to Be Kidding Me

**A/N:** I big welcome to **fluffpanda**, who has generously taken upon herself my insanity, er… beta duties. Much love!

**Chapter 22: You****'****ve Got To Be Kidding**

_April 26st, 1972, Moon Waxing Gibbous 97%_

"Albus, I know you think that kids will be kids, but this is more than just some harmless prank," Minerva said as she sipped her tea.

Professor Flitwick shook his head, stirring his coffee with one hand. "I have to agree, Albus," he said with a sigh. "The students affected are not just rival Houses. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin have been taken by this strange surge in doctored candy. If it came from Slytherin, they wouldn't be spiking their own food."

"Aldebrie and Mayworth both lost control of their magic, Albus," Slughorn huffed. "Lost control, Albus! That is not remotely normal, even amongst first years. It's hard enough to believe it happened, but to have two of them causing a magic storm in the middle of the common room is just too much of a coincidence. They were also under the malevolent mixture."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "It's more common amongst those with emotional upheaval, Horace," he said. "First years are known to lose control more than a highly trained fifth year."

"Albus," Horace said in an exasperated tone. "I've been here long enough to know when there is something odd going on with my students. Slytherin or not. It's not just the safety of my House we're talking about here. It's the safety of all the students."

Pomona Sprout tapped her nails on the table. "I tend to agree Albus," she said. "All of the Houses have been affected by this. To presume that it is some harmless prank would be to ignore all of what Poppy has been saying all along."

Albus waved his hand dismissively. "Poppy would make everyone think that every student is being targeted."

"Headmaster," Silvanus Kettleburn protested. "I had four students that normally don't even raise their hands in class insult a paddock full of hippogriffs while I was watching over one of their fellows. Surely that is some sort of indicator of a problem. Each one was from a different House."

Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "I will admit that something is going on, everyone. I just find it hard to believe that it is as big of a deal as you are making it out to be. Kids will do all sorts of mischief while in school. I seem to recalls some spiked punch during the Yule Ball back in the day, Silvanus. Then, there was that strange case of people who broke out in limericks after eating brownies, Pomona?"

Professors Sprout and Kettleburn looked a little red around the face.

"This is different, Albus," Minerva cut in. "The people who drank that punch had oscillating hair colour. The people who ate the brownies spouted poetry. It was harmless. The Malevolent potion could kill someone."

"What of your little apprentice, Minerva?" Albus cut in. "She hasn't been dosed with this mixture, yet the people around her does."

"What are you implying, Albus?" Minerva looked at the Headmaster with a cold stare.

"Nothing," Albus shrugged, "Only noting that she seems surprisingly well off, considering the people around her have fallen victim—"

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Minerva hissed. "My Apprentice has been nothing but on the best of behaviour since she became my Apprentice, and she was perfectly well behaved before that. There are quite a few people who have been unaffected, and a surprising amount of them are from Gryffindor. Shall we put the microscope on all of Gryffindor as well? Since they are not suffering as much as the other Houses?"

"I dare say, Albus," Slughorn interceded. "Miss Black has been a phenomenal example of intellect and drive. For a twelve year old, she and her friends had impressed the Potion Master Board already. They are going to present their second round of their project on the returning term in the fall. A few of the Masters on the Board say that their project is way beyond their time."

"Miss Black had been nothing but an exemplary student in my class," Flitwick said with a wave of his hand. "She is quite deft at charms."

"She saved a few Gryffindor from a venomous tentacula, Albus," Pomona said. "That is hardly the actions of someone wanting them to suffer."

Dumbledore looked taken aback, and seemed to trying hard to back peddle from Minerva's righteous indignation and the defence of the majority of the faculty at the meeting as fast as humanly possible. As much as he, himself, doubted the virtue of the Slytherin House or its members, it was rare for the faculty to stand together on a student not of their own House.

Horace looked at Albus with a concerned expression. "Albus," he said softly. "This needs to be dealt with before word gets back to the families that we have done nothing. Do you imagine the Noble Houses of Malfoy or Black to sit still for it? Or perhaps you think the families of the Lestrange, Longbottom, Parkinson, Nott, or even the Weasleys will sit on their laurels while their children are at risk, or worse yet, blamed for this?"

Albus leaned back in his chair. "Very well, I will bring it up to the Board of Governors to authorise the Aurors to come run traces at the school."

Sighs of relief surrounded him, and Albus felt a little uncomfortable.

"Horace, my dear," Rolanda Hooch said. "What are the projects being presented to the Potion Mastery Board for your little contest?"

Horace got a happy glint to his eye. "We have four submissions from Hogwarts this year. Each one promises to be something special, even if they do not win the Mastery sponsorship from the Board. Jameson and Crutchfeld are working on a counter potion for the Babbling Beverage. They are hoping to cut down on the embarrassment that seems to pop up during public speaking events when someone slips the Babbling Beverage into the punch."

Flitwick and Hooch chuckled at that.

"Farrant and Maine are working on a marvellous cure for boils that seems to have a really good start," Horace continued. "So far it has cured about four common boil afflictions and one major, but it is not a cure all just yet."

"Rutter and Willocks are working on a faster developing potion for photography, and so far the results look quite vivid," Slughorn continued. "Even if they do not make the winning potion, I am sure it will take the photography world by storm."

"And the last?" Kettleburn asked curiously.

"Black, Snape, Lupin, and Evans are working on probably the most ambitious project of them all," Horace said with a shake of his head.

"Well don't just keep it to yourself, Horace," Kettleburn huffed.

"A Wolfsbane Potion," Horace said. "If it works, it may mean the difference between mindless transformations and keeping the human mind during full moons for werewolves."

"I've never even heard of such a thing," Kettleburn said, stroking his beard. "Why do you think they would focus on such an obscure topic? If it works, Merlin, it could mean the difference between life and death for someone afflicted."

Horace nodded.

"And the four of them are working on it together?" Flitwick said to no one in particular. "Amazing."

Albus steepled his hands together. "How exactly do they plan on testing the potions?" he said carefully.

Slughorn laughed. "Well it's not like we have any werewolves on hand, Albus," he said, causing Dumbledore to relax a little. "Master Barberry has left us contacts in order to test the potion on some volunteer werewolves that are desperate to keep their families safe from themselves. They've locked themselves away every month for years, and you can imagine what a toll it takes on them and their families."

Albus nodded. "Of course. Perfectly reasonable."

"There are those that would use werewolves to sow chaos in the streets," Kettleburn said. "I can only hope that this project they are doing is successful. The more infected that can be saved from savaging others, the less that can be used as weapons against the people they care about or as agents of war. This would be a great boon to society."

Slughorn nodded in agreement.

Albus was playing with the ring on one of his fingers absently, covering up his fidgeting by the stroking of his beard with his other hand. "As fascinating as this conversation is, my friends, perhaps we should redirect our attention to the latest curriculum."

"Quite right, Albus,"Slughorn said with a nod. "I think it's time we discussed updating to the latest Advanced Potions book. We're still using the first edition at the school, and the second has been out for a few years now."

Conversation switched to the matter of books, classes, and supplies, and if anyone noticed Albus' sigh of relief, they weren't saying anything.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Thursday, April 27th, 1972, Full Moon_

Severus sat under the tree as Hermione and Fawkes were having a musical duel in the branches above him. Fawkes would start a melody, Hermione would repeat it, and Fawkes would make something up more complex, and Hermione would follow. Then, by some unseen signal, Hermione would start, and Fawkes would repeat, and it went back and forth. Every time one or the other would sing, Severus felt his heart swell with some emotion, whether it be pride, happiness, bravery, or joy.

Severus looked up as the songs stopped. Fawkes was offering Hermione some fruit he had picked off one of the ground's fruit trees, sharing it with her. Severus snorted softly, amused by the phoenix duo.

Fawkes had been spending more time with them in random patterns. Whenever he would see them flying out over the forest of lake, he would join them, singing his songs in invitation . Part of Severus felt the bird was terribly lonely cooped up in the Headmaster's office. He never saw him with the Headmaster, and only Remus' report that the phoenix was the Headmaster's supposed familiar gave him any clue as to who the phoenix was.

Fawkes seemed to take great pride in feeding Hermione random fruits, and he would arrive with some sort of offering, from exotic tropical fruits to the rare and elusive snow berries.

"I think he has a crush on Hermione," Remus chuckled, closing his book.

Severus snorted. "Can a real phoenix have a crush on an Animagus?"

Remus laughed. "It's not like we have a lot of documentation to say otherwise."

"Who'd want to admit if they did?" Severus asked.

"Any idea how the familiar bond works?" Remus asked.

Severus shook his head. Fawkes and Hermione were duelling again, their voices ringing out across the lake. "Never had one."

Remus looked up and smiled. "Part of me wondered if Professor Dumbledore sent him to spy on us, but," he said, pausing in mid sentence. "But I'm starting to think he's just lonely."

Severus shrugged. "Even if he was, what is he going to say? I saw those two Slytherin and the Gryffindor studying under a tree again."

"He could reveal our Animagus status, if he could," Remus speculated.

Severus shook his head. "That is why Professor McGonagall had us all registered legally. We are perfectly protected from any drama he might stir up because he didn't bother to read the registry book."

Remus leaned back, having forgotten they were registered somehow. "Right. I totally forgot about that."

Severus made a started noise as Hermione landed in his lap. Fawkes made a sad sound from above them.

Hermione chirped at the other phoenix, bobbing her head, and after a few seconds, Fawkes fluttered down too, landing in Remus' lap.

"Erm," Remus managed to say. "Hi."

Fawkes warbled.

Hermione chirruped.

Severus ran his hand over Hermione's head crest, and she immediately let out an almost feline purr. He smiled slightly, as she leaned into his touch and enjoyed the feel of his hand on her head.

Remus tentatively ran his hand across Fawkes' head crest and smiled as the phoenix seemed to enjoy the attention as well. Perhaps it was a phoenix thing?

Fawkes tugged on Remus' mousy coloured hair and chirped.

Hermione let out an approving warble, snuggling into Severus' chest and pressing her head against the bottom of his chin.

Severus grunted, putting his arm around her, feeling the comfort of her radiant warmth, which she never seemed to lack. He blamed it on her being a phoenix. She closed her eyes as his hand stroked her feathers, nestling deeper into him as though she was trying to sink into his chest. He chuckled, and the vibration woke her, but her eyes drifted back closed again as she let out a contented sigh. The scene amused him: the gangly boy and his phoenix friend. Part of him wondered what his mother would think, though he knew she would be happy for him. Anything that distanced him from his horrible father would make her happier for him. She knew, of all people, how ignorant and cruel Tobias Snape was to his own "freakish" son. He wondered why his mother stayed with him or if she was running from something in her past so intently that even staying in hiding with Tobias Snape was preferable to the alternative only she knew.

As Hermione snuggled into his chin, her crest feathers tickling his skin, he knew that until this year, he would never have considered a life free of Tobias Snape. He would have never considered the emotional support from someone other than his mother, and he knew his mother's had been limited under the yoke of his father. It had embittered him to no end that his mother, a powerful witch, would be reduced to the subservient and meek woman she made herself into, at least, until recently. He was starting to realise that his mother did a lot of things to spare him from his father's hand, redirecting his drunken anger to her rather than her son. He had also started to open his mind to the possibility that he might actually be entitled to kindness, friendship, and peace of mind. Maybe it wasn't just some pathetic story people made up to get themselves hopeful.

Remus sputtered as Fawkes stuffed a berry into his mouth, and Severus snickered. He supposed the three of them were finding something special at Hogwarts that wasn't necessarily instruction in practical magic. This rising feeling of peace was a magic all its own.

Hermione was looking him with half-lidded grey eyes. She yawned beakily to his face.

"Is that how it's going to be then?" Severus asked the drowsy phoenix.

Hermione chirped in agreement.

"Full moon night," he replied. "Plenty of time to sleep after your drool bath."

Hermione pecked him under the chin with her beak.

Severus closed his hand over her beak with a half smile.

Hermione clamped her beak around his fingers tightly, but it wasn't a painful grip.

Severus shook his head, slipping his abused fingers free and scratched under her chin, gaining her soft chirp of approval. "We should go set up our cauldrons so they are in the waiting stage under the moon tonight."

Remus yawned. "Irony that a wolfsbane potion for werewolves has to finish brewing under the full moon."

"If the calculations are correct," Severus replied. "Our use of the solar and lunar cycle charges will make the doses extra potent. Instead of having to take multiple doses, a person would only have to take one, and as long as it is anytime before the shift…"

Remus let out a long sigh. "This would be such a great boon for the growing amount of victims of Fenrir Greyback and those he's bitten who in turn bite others."

Hermione launched out of Severus' lap, and Fawkes took off after her, chasing her across the skies back towards Hogwarts and Minerva's beloved and slightly abused flower box.

"Is that a hint?" Remus asked.

"Subtle as an acromantula in a broom closet," Severus replied.

Remus shuddered. "Serious? You had to bring up giant spiders in broom closets?"

"Planning on spending time in a broom closet, Remus?"

The werewolf shook his head. "I'm just saying…"

"You planning on shifting inside a closet tonight, Tuft?," Severus said as he stood up and brushed off his robes.

"That'd be a little cramped," Remus noted.

They started to head back towards Hogwarts.

"You said Headmaster Dumbledore is the one that arranged for you to be in that house outside Hogsmeade right?" Severus asked.

Remus nodded. "Yes, he specifically had it built before he went to my parents to tell them it would be safe for them to let me come to school here."

Severus furrowed his brows. "Ever wonder why he would go to such lengths for a student he never met?"

Remus scratched his head absently. "I wondered, but part of me figured he knew my father from his work with the Wizengamot. I think he's one of the few that knew after Fenrir escaped with a few of his fellow werewolves that he targeted me out of spite for my father's views on werewolves."

"You were targeted? Specifically?" Severus boggled.

Remus nodded. "Attacked me when I was four. I was asleep in bed. I think he meant to kill me, or he lost control and was going to kill me, but father drove him off. It was too late, of course. Even alive, I was infected."

Severus shook his head. "I can't imagine the pain at that age."

"Father's hate for werewolves was at odds for his love for me," Remus admitted. "My parents searched for a cure all over the world, but every hope they had led to a dead end. My mother had some hope with a Native American group in the Americas, but the moment they said 'bring peace to the wolf,' father shut the door to it. He didn't want peace for the wolf. He wanted to destroy it."

Severus frowned. "Because of the violence?"

Remus shook his head. "He would never believe that you and Hermione stay with me every full moon. To him the wolf is a mindless slavering beast whose violence is incurable and deserves no pity."

"Well he did get one part right," Severus said with a sniff.

Remus eyed him suspiciously.

"You do slaver quite a bit," Severus said.

Remus slapped his palm to his forehead. "Thanks."

The duo raced up the path towards Hogwarts, laughing.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione perched on the top of the Shrieking Shack's roof and watched the sun go down. She set down on top of her feet, yawning beakily. The week had been long, but she couldn't pin it on one particular reason. Sure, her brother was still under Pomfrey's care, but he was getting better. His humour was a sharp as ever, and soon he was going to be released to Mungos for a follow-up on his mind, but she was convinced the elder son of the Ancient and Noble House of Black was going to be just fine.

Minerva had said that the strange run of malevolent mixture had affected every House at Hogwarts, but it seemed random. Hermione had pondered if it had been too random to be real. Severus had tended to agree. Remus had thought it seemed a little paranoid, but Minerva seemed to be straddling the fence between both, thinking that the fact it had happened made a lot of her presumptions null and void. Someone was obviously connected enough to smuggle a dangerous sort of potion into the foods of multiple Houses. The question remained: to what end? Who? And the all important why?

Now that their potion was curing safely on Minerva's balcony, they were really close to their final testing on a "real werewolf," at least as far as the Potion Mastery Board was concerned. The question remained was how the potion was going to work. Would it leave the wolf with the mind of a human, or would it simply make the wolf placid and no longer apt to rampage. Both were equally desirable, but Severus had brought up what the potion might do if it did leave the human mind in the body of a werewolf. Would it gift someone like Fenrir Greyback the ability to hurt more people on purpose? However, if the potion simply rendered the wolf placid during the moon nights, it would keep them safe around others and keep the human mind from using the werewolf's body to run amok. Only time would tell.

Remus seemed to think retaining a human mind would be preferable, yet Hermione and Severus seemed to think otherwise. Tuft, they argued, was a pleasant sort of wolf, and was not the sort to prone to violence for its own sake. Taking away the loneliness and inability to surface outside of the moon, there was a good chance that Tuft would one of the first European werewolves to discover what the Native American tribes of the Americas had known all along. Be at peace with the wolf, and the wolf no longer made war on the nights of the full moon.

Remus argued that Fenrir Greyback was completely accepting of his status as a werewolf, even to the point of embracing the violence, but Severus had argued there was a big difference between being at peace with the wolf and embracing the violence it wrecked due to its suppressed nature the rest of the month.

"Do you think Fenrir's wolf is mad?" Hermione had asked, speculating.

Severus nodded. "Stark raving, most likely. Perhaps, so far gone there is no coming back. They say, he craves the flesh of humans even when he is not changed. He is notorious for his desire for children." Severus paused and looked uncomfortable. "They say he likes children for other reasons as well."

Hermione had looked sad, mirroring the look Hermione Granger would have given an abused animal or House-elf. "I find that sad, really, about his wolf. The other, I find disgusting."

Remus has looked green around the gills at the very thought of committing such acts willingly or not.

Severus had looked thoughtful. "What if we find out that the transmission of the disease it through the wolf's intent. Desperate need for companionship. What if the bite isn't about an infection but transmission of magical desire mixed with the desolation of the wolf? If that is the case—"

"Bring peace to the wolf. Stop the infections," Remus whispered.

"That would mean regardless of who was in control after the shift, the infection could never happen because the wolf itself was at peace. A human in a werewolf body couldn't infect someone, just like a human werewolf can't infect someone," Hermione speculated.

"Even if we don't win this contest," Severus said. "This potion could still help countless people."

Hermione and Remus had nodded in excitement.

"We're the youngest team at the Board presentations," Remus said. "If we win this, Slughorn is going to be beside himself."

"I'm going to be beside myself," Severus confessed.

"You're going to be the next great Potion Master, Severus," Hermione said with a smile.

Severus scoffed. "Pardon me for being sceptical."

Remus nudged him. "You will, Severus. I can see it."

Severus shook his head. "Let's not count our basilisks before they hatch."

The trio chuckled amongst themselves, but Severus had a flicker of something special cross his face. He saw the faith his friends had in him, and he truly wished not to let them down.

With Remus now tucked inside the shack awaiting his shift, Hermione found herself enjoying the simple sunset with a combination of relief and quiet pleasure. Reuniting with Tuft had become a welcome thing, no longer filled with dread for Remus' suffering the change. Tuft wanted nothing more than to be reunited with his bird friends, and as long as they were there, the werewolf was happy to slobber on them, chase them around, and then share the four poster bed and sleep.

Hermione yawned again. It was odd that Severus hadn't flown in to join her yet. She pondered flying down the chimney and checking to see if he had beaten her here, but it was too habitual for him to meet her on the roof before they went down the chimney like Saint Nicholas. The sun was set at last, and the sky was now a dark and almost ominous purple. Where was he?

Hermione went down the floo, flopping in the ash at the bottom with a chirp of annoyance. She shook herself off and fluttered into the adjoining room.

Remus was laying on top of the mattress, waiting, his tail wagging in greeting. Green eyes. Still Remus. That was a relief. She switched her forms, and Remus tensed on the bed. She could see the puzzlement and worry in his eyes.

"Remus, Severus is late," Hermione explained. "It's not like him. I'm going to go out and look for him. Will you be okay?"

Remus wagged his tail, but he whined softly.

"I'll try to be quick," Hermione said.

Remus woofed softly, but his green eyes continued to look at her with concern.

Hermione put her arms around Remus' neck and hugged him, and the wolf licked her ear gently. She dashed into the hall, found the trap door and went down it, closing it behind her.

Hermione Granger nagged in the back of her head, telling her that Severus Snape was perfectly capable of handling himself. There wasn't anything to worry about. Hermione Black mentally yelled at that aspect of herself, reminding Hermione Granger that Severus Snape was twelve, not thirty something. He was brilliant, but he was still growing into the shoes of the man that would be the Potion Master of Hogwarts.

She travelled down the tunnel, and the hair on the back of her neck was starting to rise for no discernible reason. It didn't take long to figure out why. The clump of dark cloth of a travelling cloak was crumbled on the ground just in range of the Whomping Willow.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, looking above her. The Whomping Willow was still. Utterly still. She had never seen the tree not wanting to kill her. It was frozen in place as if caught by a flash freeze. She dashed out in a blur of movement, coming to Severus' side.

"Severus," she repeated, cradling his head. "Are you okay?"

The Slytherin wizard moaned softly. The side of his face was bruised where the willow had apparently clocked him upside the head.

She made to drag him to safety, unsure what distance the angry willow would be able to administer its wrath, and there was a flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes as the branches of the angry willow pummelled into her side and sent her flying into the air.

CRACK!

The last thing she saw was the branches of the willow coming towards her face as she slid down the trunk of a nearby tree.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione came to as she was leaning against Severus. She had somehow ended up at the end of the tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack. That didn't bother her as much as the fact her arms were tied around to her back and her mouth was gagged.

Gagged? Who the heck gagged people in the Wizarding world?

"Are you a wizard or are you not, Harry Potter?" Hermione Grangers words came back to her.

Her head was throbbing horribly, and she could smell the blood trickling down her head. She grunted softly, turning her head slightly with a wince. She looked upward, and saw the trap door to the shack half open.

Hermione struggled against Severus, and he let out a low moan. She laid her head on his chest a moment and then nudged him.

Severus startled, eyes wide as he took in her face, her gag, and their location.

Hermione gestured to the trap door with her head, and his reaction mirrored her earlier one. They bonked their heads together in the gloom, and Hermione tried to shove her chin against Severus' face to get the gag to move off his mouth. He tried to do the same, but hers wasn't budging. Severus' was slowly working its way off.

His gag was almost off when a rustling sound caught their attention and they froze together, immediately slumping against each other to appear as unconscious as they once were.

"This should get them in hot water," a voice said.

"Indeed," another voice confirmed. "He said Dumbledore had his little pet project hidden away here. This saves us from having to drag people here for him to munch on. Much better if he gnaws on his little friend."

"Even better that she's Slytherin," the one voice confirmed. "We'll have a nice little Pure-blood maimed by a ravenous beast."

"Who's the other one?"

"Just some random student I caught walking across the grounds," the one voice said. "He's wearing the green and silver too, so there will be even more drama to be had."

"What are you doing?"

"Going to make sure our little friends can't escape what's coming to them."

"Tying them up and gagging them wasn't good enough, Damien?"

"Have to be sure he gets to them, Colyn," the one voice sneered. "Stupefy!"

Hermione and Severus slumped even further into the dirt. There was a roaring coming from inside the Shack. Claws were scraping under the half open trap door.

"What are you doing? Come on, get a move on! We'll be late for the rendezvous."

Slamming on the trap door rung down below as something heavy and angry was throwing himself against the trap door. Bared teeth flecked with foam snarled through the opening.

"Come on, leave them!"

Damien ran down the tunnel, leaving the two stunned students to the teeth and claws of the beast.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When their contact had told them that the distraction would be an easy way to rile up the House war in Hogwarts as well as stir up some half-breed hatred, Colyn and Damien were on board for anything the to prove their way into the Dark Lord's service. Their contact communicated with them through owls, telling them places, dates, and times where certain things needed to be done, and they had gleefully thrown themselves into the work.

Dumbledore, their contact had said, was harbouring a half-breed beast in the house outside Hogsmeade. All they had to to do was drag some victims there, open the hatch right after sunset, and let the festivities begin.

Both Colyn and Damien had found victims that were perfect for the blame game. One, the wizard with the oily looking black hair, had been easy to stupefy as he ran across the greens towards the Whomping willow. All they had to do was drag him to the willow, stun the annoying tree with the bauble they had been given, and move him into the tunnel, but in their haste to drag him, they had tangled with the willow itself, almost getting themselves smashed to death. They used the boy as a shield, letting him take all the blows.

But, just as they stunned the willow temporarily, a girl had come out from the tunnel, perhaps to meet her friend, and she was trying to help him. All Colyn and Damien had to do was wait for the willow to rouse itself, shake off the stunning spell, and do their work for them.

The witch was out of commission too, and they tied them both up, after stunning the annoying tree yet again. All seemed to be going well until Damien went back in to "make sure" the two students were properly stunned and thus in the way of a rampaging beast.

In hindsight, the pair may have realised what the beast was had they looked up and seen the moon in the sky. In hindsight, perhaps, they might have reconsidered their little plan had they realised that it was not smell of the two students that was driving the beast insane on the other side of the trapdoor—it was them.

The werewolf had burst through the half open trapdoor with a roar and gnashing of teeth that rivalled that of a dragon defending its horde. The snarl on the wolf's face was twisted into rage, and the moment the werewolf sniffed the pile of students under his paws, his jaws opened, exposing wickedly pointed teeth. Slaver dripped from his jaws as baleful yellow eyes bored into them, and he was running.

It was all Damien and Colyn could do to flee, tripping over each other in their haste to flee the beast who ignored their tied up offering to tear off after them. They shot a flurry of spells at the snarling werewolf, but running forward and flinging spells backwards was not something they were prepared to do. The both of them ran to the edge of what was considering Hogwarts grounds as fast as their legs could carry them, but it wasn't quite enough.

The werewolf snarled, snapping at their heals, teeth tearing into their flapping clothes, and causing the pair to run blindly into the forest. And just when the werewolf leapt for them, jaws poised to tear into the flesh of their calves, the two of them Apparated together with a crack.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Tuft stood rigid where the two invaders had entered his territory and howled his frustration that the interlopers had escaped him. He sniffed the air, searching around the area they had disappeared, taking extra time to do a little scent marking on various trees to leave the clear message that this land was the territory of his pack.

The werewolf curled his lips back from his opalescent teeth, slaver dripping from his jaws. Interlopers gone, his thoughts went back to his pack, and he remembered what had triggered his wrathful chase. He bounded over the green back towards his "lair" with renewed interest.

The irritated Whomping Willow was not amused as he dodged the gyrating branches, and dove into the tunnel. He reached the end of it where his pack lay still in a heap.

Tuft whined, wagging his tail, snuffling them. His muzzle pressed into their hair and robes. They looked a little funny, but they smelled like pack, and that was all that Tuft needed to know. He whined again, tongue emerging to lick Severus on the side of the head then Hermione. There was a bit of blood on each of them, and Tuft dutifully cleaned their faces, tugging on the odd bits of cloth that were covering their faces.

Severus stirred, sputtering, and his eyes opened, meeting Tuft's faze.

The werewolf went down to his belly and woofed slowly, tail wagging in encouragement.

Severus eyed the werewolf very, very carefully, moving to sit up, his arms still tied behind his back. He leaned onto Hermione and grasped the gag that was still half on her face, gripping it in his teeth, and pulling it off her face. "Hermione, we need to shift," he said carefully.

He shifted quickly into his eagle form to slip through the bindings. He tried to work his beak over the ropes and decided that it was better to have hands for such things, and shifted back to do so, keeping a very close eye on Tuft's response. The werewolf did not descend into violence with his human to bird to human shifts, but he watched him with a cocked head. Hermione was not responding, and the worry in Severus changed his scent more than the wariness around the turned werewolf.

Tuft, sensing the change, whined, and belly crawled up to Hermione and whined again. He placed his paws on her shoulders and tongue bathed her face as if to revive her. He nuzzled her hair, licked her skin, and made soft puppy-like noises. Severus was happy to note that her head wound was not as serious as he thought, the small scratch across her temple had produced far more blood than such a small injury should have generated.

Hermione roused, half delirious. She moaned softly, her hand reaching out to scratch Tuft's ears. Severus froze, knowing that she was not aware enough to realise that she was petting Tuft like she would Remus, but the werewolf seemed perfectly content with her actions. His tail beat on the ground in approval, and he nuzzled her under the chin, lapping under it like a pup.

Hermione caused Severus a mini heart attack as she took Tuft around the neck and snuggled into him, drawing him into her embrace like she did with Remus, and the werewolf snuffled her, tail working like a propeller, flopping on his side so she could rub his belly like some faithful hound.

As Hermione leaned into both Severus and Tuft, her arm wrapped around the werewolf, and she managed to cuddle into them both at the same time. Severus felt the realisation crystallising in his mind that something profound had not only happened but also was still happening.

Tuft had not only saved them from some unknown adversary, but he had come back, helped his friends, and allowed a groggy Hermione to cuddle him as a human with no desire for the violence or biting that werewolves were notoriously known for. Tuft had made the decision on his own to save his pack from danger.

Tuft placed his heavy head on Severus' chest and stared up at him with his golden yellow eyes. Severus slowly reached out and caressed his ears, causing Tuft to growl softly, but it was not a threatening sort of sound. His eyes closed and ears went to the side in a relaxed movement.

Severus rubbed Tuft's ears gently. "Thank you for saving us," he whispered softly.

Tuft's tail beat against the ground with a loud thumping sound as his eyes closed completely, and he relaxed, sprawled over Hermione and Severus' laps like a wolf-shaped quilt.

Severus leaned into Hermione, sagging a little as weariness caught up with him, and then he too succumbed to exhaustion.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Odd Splinching Lands Wizards in Mungos**

Colyn Ridgefield and Damien Stonewall were transported to St. Mungos this evening after most of their bodies found their way to Knockturn Alley in London.

Mrs. Virginia Bladderwort found their splinched bodies half embedding in a brick wall near the Dirty Rat Pub and called for Aurors. Aurors had to removed the entire wall to get them out, thinking that their other half was on the other side, but much to their dismay, both of them have lost a leg and arm from the incident. Aurors searched the area, but the two wizards' missing appendages could not be found. Their condition is reported as dire, as the loss of such significant parts can make recovering impossible.

Both Colyn Ridgefield and Damien Stonewall seem to have suffered severe internal bleeding to many of their systems including their heads due to their splinching, and the healers at St. Mungos seem to think that even if the other injuries can be healed, that the internal damage will not be something their minds can recover from.

Reasons for the pair turning up splinched is unknown. Aurors did not detect Dark magic curses on them, but they did find some sort of stunning device on them which has been turned over to the Department of Magic's Analysis Division.

The Department of Magical Transportation would like to remind our readers not to forget the three D's of Apparition: Destination, Determination, and Deliberation. A licence to Apparate is required to legally Apparate. The Department of Magical Transportation highly recommends those who have reached seventeen years of age to enrol in an Apparition class to prevent such mishaps.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Lord Orion Black, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black,

It is my duty to inform you that your daughter, Hermione, and her team of potioneers has made the cut for the third stage of presentations with the Potion Mastery Board during the summer meeting on July 14th. She and her team will be presenting their results with their potion. During this session, the immediate family is invited to the dinner to show support for their progress, and it falls to me to insure that invitations are sent to each of the family Heads for this purpose. All that have made it this far are to consider their work exemplary, and the judging of winners in this year's contest will be difficult indeed.

It is with my sincere congratulations that you are invited to attend the July 14th meeting of the Potion Mastery Board. Dinner will start at eight o'lock, and presentations will begin at six.

I ask that you please R.S.V.P. with the enclosed card stating how many people shall be attending.

Sincerely,

Master Barberry (seal of the Board of Potion Mastery)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Apologies on the long pauses on updates, but this time of year is the time for stuffing my head into books and making sure I don't fail my finals. Please bear with me during this stressful time. More regular updates will occur during my Summer Break.


	23. Hermione Ain't Your 'Mione

Beta Love: **fluffpanda**

**Chapter 23: Hermione is Not Your ****'Mione**

_Tuesday, August 11th, 2009, Waning gibbous 74%_

"He's gone completely mental," Fred said with a shake of his head.

"Barmy," George confirmed, "and it wasn't even our fault this time."

Harry sipped his tea as he sat with the twins in the waiting room of St. Mungos. "When did this start?"

"A few months ago, he started acting a little strange in the head," George said, playing with his ear.

"We really didn't think anything of it," Fred said. "I mean, you know our little brother. He's never been quite right in the head."

Harry turned his mouth up on one side. "I wouldn't know what you mean."

Fred and George gave him "that look" which translated into "liar!"

"Mum is fit to be tied," George said. "She's practically burned a path into the Burrow floor with her pacing and torn her own hands off wringing them."

Harry shook his head. "What got him into Mungo's? I mean, Mungo's isn't exactly the first stop usually," Harry trailed off, looking somewhat confused.

Fred ruffled his hair with a sigh. "He started looking at old pictures of when we were back in Hogwarts, right?"

"And he starts rattling off that Professor Snape, our Transfiguration professor of all people, screwed everything up," George added with a confused shake of his head.

"But, he's not calling her Professor Snape like we only had to do for seven years of our life, no," Fred said. "He's calling her 'ermione like she's got some oddball nickname. He started saying they were meant to be together."

George leaned in. "And he called her Granger, Harry. Can you even figure why anyone would accuse Professor Snape of being in Dion's family? Muggle-born? I think the Ancient and Noble House of Black would just combust, despite how great his reputation is."

Harry blinked. Dion? Memories filtered in. Dion Jaques Granger was the first and only son of Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They were both Muggle dentists with a love of Shakespeare, hence the naming of their son after a character from one of their favourite plays. Dion had been a brazen Gryffindor, the most infamous Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was known to be one of the brightest wizards of his age, and he graduated and worked at the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement as a Hit Wizard. The brilliant wizard had so many arrests of dangerous criminals in his first year that there was a joke in the Auror's Office that all of them could go on holiday when Granger was in the office. Harry let the memory settle in as the look of confusion settled across his face.

Fred leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, that's what we thought, Harry," Fred said, seemingly thinking Harry's expression followed his own line of thinking. "Dion got a good laugh out of it too. He said as much time as he spend taking extra work from both Professor Snapes, he never once assumed they were close enough to be family."

Harry shook his head. "I take it the delusions became worse, since he's here at Mungos?"

"Yeah, he started spouting that he had made sure that she'd never cheat on him again and that she shouldn't be alive," George said with a worried expression. "He said it in front of Aurors that week you took off for holiday, Harry."

"The mind-healers say he's got delusions so deeply seated he thinks he's a hero from a Wizarding war and that he helped defeat the greatest threat to the Wizarding world," Fred sighed into his hands. "I mean, he's completely lost it. It's almost like he took every story dad told us growing up and injected himself into it."

"He also thinks that you're going to confirm his story, Harry," George puzzled half to himself.

Harry made a face.

"He stormed into Hogwarts and accused Severus Snape of being a Death Eater and a paedophile that sleeps with his students," Fred said. "That was pretty much what got him landed here." Fred gestured his hand in a swirling motion to the building that was St. Mungos.

Harry practically spit out his tea. "Paedophile?"

George closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yeah, he said Snape was 'old enough to be 'ermione's father and he should be ashamed of himself.'"

Harry remembered the look on Snape's face as he had gazed into Hermione's face. It had been warm and affectionate. Harry had practically crawled out of his skin when Snape had kissed his best friend, even as he saw that Hermione was no longer the young student he once knew. He could only imagine what it would have done to Ron's mind. Served him right, the right git. It was because of him that Hermione Granger wasn't Hermione Granger anymore.

Arthur wandered into the waiting room with a weary look upon his face. "Ah there you are, children," he said with a tired smile. He had never stopped calling them children. Fred and George said that they could be a hundred years old, and Arthur would still call them all children. "I fear your brother isn't any better. Your mother is with him, but the healers seem to think the less that reminds him of his delusions the better for now."

The twins and Harry shook their head together.

"Harry, if you would?" Arthur said as the twins got up to leave.

"Yes, Sir?" Harry said automatically.

"Arthur, Harry," Arthur chuckled. "Ron seems convinced that you will confirm his story that you and he grew up together with someone named Hermione Granger. He's convinced it's actually Hermione Snape, and that they were going to be married. I'd appreciate it if you could—"

"Of course, S…Arthur," Harry said with a nod.

"Thank you, Harry," Arthur said with a clap of his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry gave him a grim nod.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Harry!" Ronald called from his restrained bed. "Tell then, will you? Tell them that 'mione is one of us!"

"One of us?" Harry said carefully.

Ron was not physically tied to the bed, but Harry could recognise a restraint spell keeping Ron from rampaging around the private room at Mungos. Years as an Auror made him quite familiar to the spell and the magic dampening field that kept Ron from trying to dispel it with silent or wandless magic.

"Ron," Harry said slowly. "If you mean Hermione Snape—"

"Hermione is not married to that greasy git of the dungeons!" Ron yelled. "She's the same age as us! She helped us defeat Voldemort! Tell them, Harry! Tell them who she really is!"

Harry held images in his mind of Hermione Granger when they were camped in the Forest of Dean when Ronald Bilius Weasley had left them, accusing Hermione of being unfaithful to him with Harry of all people. He remembered the touch of Hermione's head as she snuggled up against him in her pain of seeing Ron together with Lavender Brown. He remembered the pain on her face as Ron insulted her in their first year.

Then, like the clouds moving out from the sun, he remembered the joyous expression on Hermione's older face as she stood on the ramparts of Hogwarts with her husband. Fawkes had sung from somewhere nearby, and his red and orange feathers created a blur across the sky as he rose up past her. She had flung her arms out into the air as if to embrace the sky and stepped backwards with the look unfiltered joy. Harry had rushed forward, thinking her insane, suicidal, or five hundred other things that did not involve what had really happened.

Hermione's wings unfolded like the outward spiral of of a universe, and she became the phoenix. Her body was cast in flames, and she gave out a joyous warble as her body caught the thermals and launched high into the air, her black, brown, and red feathers created their own swath of colour to join with Fawkes.

Snape had been looking at him with amusement, his dark eyes flickered with the smugness of a secret kept only to be revealed at the proper time. He cast himself into the air, dark black wings unfurling from his body like the wings of a horrible and great Dark angel. His body shifted into the form of the Bateleur eagle, and he gave a loud eagle scream as he tore off into the clouds. His great wings beat in synchronisation with his mate's as they flew over Black Lake together. Fawkes and Hermione sung in unison, and Harry had felt a joy he had never known rise in his chest and fill him up.

Hermione Granger lived on within Hermione Ankaa Snape (neé Black.) She was happy. She was complete. She remembered Harry, loved him like family, and had given him the best life she could by insuring that he grew up never knowing the pain and ostracism of being the Boy-Who-Lived.

For the first time since he met Hermione Ankaa Black, Harry remembered the faces of his parents, but not from the photographs. He remembered his mother holding out a strangely lop-sided red and gold birthday cake as she encouraged him to blow out the candles. He remembered his father teaching him to ride a broom for the first time. He remembered Sirius, Regulus, Remus, Hermione, and Severus sitting together in a sitting room drinking tea together in a strangely normal looking Muggle home. His mother and father were raising a glass into the air in salute to something his young mind did not fathom, but the looks on each of the adult faces was celebration and accomplishment.

"Happy fifth birthday, Harry," Hermione's voice had whispered to him as she handed him a plush hippogriff with silver and green ribbons on it.

"Agh!" Lily had complained. "Don't make my boy into a Slytherin just yet! He's going to be Gryffindor like his parents!"

Harry had clung to that stuffed hippogriff for upwards of two decades. He dragged it everywhere, slept with it, bathed with it nearby, carried it on his broom with him, and took it to Hogwarts with him. He had named it Salazar, much to the dismay of his Gryffindor parents and the pride of the gathered Slytherins. Even now, Harry knew that Salazar had a treasured place on his bookshelf at home, his old emerald and silver ribbons faded and tattered, and his plush exterior somewhat loved on to the point of thinness.

"To the day you pulled my head out of my arse," James Potter said as he lifted his glass once more to the fireplace in salute.

"Impossible," Sirius scoffed. "It's still up there."

James Potter pshed at the dog Animagus. "Don't make me run you through with my antlers, dog boy."

Sirius had a broad grin on his face, his eyes missing the haunted expression that thirteen years in Azkaban had tortured into his alternate self. He lifted his glass. "To stubborn friends and even more stubborn friendship."

"To family," Regulus said, lifting his glass. "Wherever we may find it."

"To peace," Severus said, lifting his glass as well.

"To forgiveness," Lily said, raising her glass.

"To understanding," Hermione said, raising her glass.

"To miracles," Remus said with a tilt of his glass as he looked on Harry.

Their glasses clinked together.

Harry had shambled over with his sippy cup of pumpkin juice and rose it up to clank it against their glasses.

The room was filled in light laughter, and Harry looked around him to see the warmth of friends who had never been parted by death and believed it to be the way life should be. His innocence remained preserved.

Sirius, James, Remus, and Lily rose their glasses, "To Slytherin."

Hermione, Severus, and Regulus rose theirs again. "To Gryffindor."

"To everyone!" Harry had cheered, completely oblivious to what was going on.

Hermione's grey eyes had met his green ones as she placed her hand on his hair and ruffled it affectionately. "To everyone, dear Harry," she said with approval, placing a kiss upon the top of his head, ruffling his hair with a warm look.

Harry had beamed at her proudly, crawled up into her lap, and planted a kiss upon her right cheek. "Promise to be my friend!" he bubbled.

James and Lily shook their heads together. "She's your godmother, Harry, isn't that enough?"

Harry shook his head adamantly. "I want her to be my friend too!" He slammed Salazar into Hermione's chest and made a stubborn face.

"I would be your friend, Harry Potter," Hermione's grey eyes met his as she pressed her lips to his right cheek in reply to the formal request he had unknowingly asked of her.

Harry's mind came back to the present as he started into the eyes of Ronald Bilius Weasley, the man who had single-handedly destroyed one life and somehow given life to so many more.

He leaned on the end of the bed and stared into Ron's eyes.

"What is it you wanted me to say about my godmother?" Harry said with a stony face that would have made Severus Snape proud.

Ron's jaw dropped down to the floor.

Harry's eyes flashed. Justice was sweet indeed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Friday, April 28th, 1972, Full Moon_

Hermione opened her eyes, her body aching as she tried to move. She felt warm and safe, and her hands instinctively drew her closer to that musky smell of earth and almonds combined.

A soft whine and a series of licks passed across her cheek.

"Mrf," she complained with a moan, "It's early, Remus."

A tail beat against her, and she sleepily pulled up and saw golden eyes of Tuft staring at her.

"Tuft?" Hermione said, swallowing hard. She looked up and saw the open and abused looking trapdoor above them. She looked into Tuft's lupine face. He panted, tongue lolling and tail wagging. He was the epitome of bloodthirsty human-hating violence, that is, if violence could look at her with such warm eyes and a cheerful expression that make even a wolf's face seem more human. If anything, a person would walk right up to him and insert their arm willingly into his mouth and ask to be bitten. They'd even ask nicely, and he would oblige, just to be the best of friends.

Tuft licked her hand, and she felt his warm tongue cross the skin with long strokes. There was a slight tingle, and she winced as she looked down and saw she had quite a few scratching from her stint as a punching bag for one irate Whomping Willow. Tuft had done very well cleaning her wounds with his ministrations, and they even looked like they were healing. It was ironic that Remus would have suffered so long with his self-inflicted wounds, but Tuft was doing his best to encourage healing in his pack-mates.

Hermione turned to see Severus leaning against her, a little bit of drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. It looked like he had half healed bruises on his head as well, but again, it appeared that Tuft had dutifully cleaned his wounds with his ministrations. Strangely enough, her sense of panic that perhaps Remus' lycanthropy may have been passed to her and Severus due to his "helpful" licking seemed far less important. The feeling of warmth and belonging while Tuft was close by was stronger than ever. If anything, she felt more relaxed, content, and more willing to just curl back up next to Tuft and await the dawn. Tuft was there. Severus was there. She felt at ease, confident in the bond of pack and friendship between them.

He licked the side of her neck and hair, sculpting her hair into something resembling a cow lick. Hermione's eyes fluttered, her hands rubbing Tuft's swivelling ears. She sputtered with a soft giggle as his whiskers tickled her cheek. She leaned back against Severus, and Tuft wiggled between them like a needy child wishing to be near both of his parents during a thunderstorm.

"I suppose I have you to thank for saving us last night?" Hermione murmured to the werewolf, soothing his ears with her hand.

Tuft licked her hand as if to reply, and Hermione felt a tremor of something that felt like opposite polar fields. It drew her to Tuft and Severus and they to her, weaving their energy together. It was like the feeling of a warm bath seeping into her muscles, her magic, and her mind.

The part of her that identified with Hermione Granger was desperately trying to analyse what was happening to her, Tuft, and Severus. She wanted to know what was going on, how it was happening, or why it was happening at all. Hermione Black, however, was at peace and accepting. It was a high sort of Magic. It was as old as it was powerful, and it had claimed the trio in its grasp. Magic was the lifeblood of Pure-blood society. To deny its was to deny Life. To fight it was to fight the natural order of things. Hermione Granger wanted to get up, rouse Severus, make sure they weren't infected, confirm that they were safe. Hermione Black knew she was safe because her Pack was near and the Magic told her so.

Severus stirred against her, but did not wake. Unconsciously, he pulled closer to her, snuggling into the pile.

Pack. Safe. Rest. Heal.

Hermione's eyes drifted closed once more as tendrils of magic tightened between them thread by thread.

Sleep.

Hermione was asleep, unable to resist the draw into the weave of the solidified Pack.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Minerva had felt a strange unease earlier in the evening, but it had faded. Now that she was awake again, her mind tried to piece together the reason for it. Feeling a strange gut impulse, Minerva changed into her teaching robes and left her chambers, walking the empty corridors. This was the hour when the halls were desolate, the portraits asleep, and even the mischief makers were dead asleep.

She fell into her cat form with practised grace, licking her chops as she walked. Her tail flipped over her back and then swished back and forth like a flag

She caught the scent of her Apprentice and her pseudo-Apprentices in the air as she padded towards the Whomping Willow, her cat eyes making short work of the dim lighting thanks to the fullness of the moon. The moon hadn't dipped under the horizon yet, so Minerva stayed in her cat form, just in case.

Concern prickled the edge of her awareness. There was the tang of blood in the air and a mixture of scents she didn't know. Each combined in Minerva's checklist of horrible things that could have happened to her cubs. She dodged the groggy Whomping Willow, and tore down the tunnel, her feline eyes taking a moment to adjust to the even darker underground lighting.

The silver tabby skidded to a halt, her fur standing on end as she saw the pileup at the end of the tunnel. The open trapdoor was half trashed by claws and teeth.

Below the trapdoor was Hermione, Severus, and one werewolf that was staring at her with highly watchful eyes. The moon was still up. Remus wasn't there, she knew, but the werewolf was flopped with the two human students like a strange makeshift puppy pile.

The werewolf sniffed the air, eyeing her closely, ears perked forward, and tongue lolling. Then, after a moment, his tail rose up into the air and wagged slightly. He gave a soft whine.

Severus stirred gradually, stretching lazily, and Hermione yawned, rolling her head against him. Their eyes opened simultaneously, and Minerva saw a flash of gold in their eyes. It happened so fast, McGonagall could have easily dismissed it as an early morning hallucination. Hermione yawned and rubbed the werewolf behind the ears, causing his tail to whirl like a propeller of approval.

"It's okay, Master," Hermione said softly, rubbing the werewolf on the belly. "Tuft saved us."

Minerva padded up and hopped into Hermione's lap, placing her paws on her chest to look her over.

Hermione rubbed her head where her almost fully healed scratch was. "The tree kinda beat on us," she confessed with embarrassment.

Tuft put his cold wet nose on Minerva's ear, practically shoving it down her ear canal. He sniffed her, recorded her scent, and noted that his pack-mates were relaxed and calm around the silver tabby. He decided that she was to be filed under "friend" gave her one final sniff, and then slurped at her sloppily before flopping on his side to enjoy the belly rub he was getting. Severus was running his hand down Tuft's side and long the side of his muzzle. The werewolf's tail didn't stop thumping against the dirt floor of the tunnel.

The sun started to peak down the tunnel and Tuft whined softly. He stood shakily and shook himself from nose to tail tip and his muzzle lengthened, fur grew slightly thicker, and his eyes bled into a soft green colour.

Remus sneezed and yawned with a soft whine to punctuate. He looked at Minerva, back to Hermione, then to Severus. He sat down on his haunches and used his rear foot to scratch his ear furiously and tilted his head as he fell back to his human form. "Um…" he said groggily. "Why are we in the tunnel?"

Minerva shifted into her human form, brushing dust off herself. "That is a great question, Mr. Lupin. Would either of you three care to tell me why two young Slytherin and a transformed werewolf were sleeping away here instead of," she trailed off as she pointed up to the abused trapdoor, "up there?"

"I'm not even sure where to start," Severus confessed, rubbing his head.

Minerva herded them out of the tunnel. "Start from the beginning, children, and we'll sort it out from there. Let's get you to Poppy and make sure you three are okay."

The trio followed behind the Transfiguration professor without protest, allowing her to nudge them in the right direction back towards Hogwarts.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Well, Minerva," Poppy said with a sigh of relief. "Neither of them have lycanthropy."

Minerva let her breath out slowly, staring at the three ardent friends laughing as they sat around Sirius Black. They laughed and joked, and poked fun at the bed-ridden Gryffindor, but there was no malice in it. Minerva saw the affection in the elder son Black's eyes and nodded with approval. "I'm relieved, Poppy, I cannot tell you," Minerva confessed. "Not that their friendship isn't strong enough to take it in stride, I am glad of it."

"You said they were just curled up together like a two normal people and their… pet wolf?" Poppy asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Oddest thing, Poppy," she confessed. "It was like they just woke up from the best sleep of their lives there on the tunnel floor. And Lupin, he was still a wolf, but he wasn't a bit crazed. He just snuggled up to them like they were his best of friends. It makes me think we've got it all wrong about werewolves."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I saw what he did to himself when he was alone, Minerva," she said a bit sadly. "I treated the wounds. He's healthy now. More than healthy. He's healing quicker than blink. It may not be normal for a werewolf, but whatever is becoming normal for him is something wonderful."

Minerva's expression softened. "They are stalwart friends, Poppy. I can't help but think I'm a little jealous that when I was their age I didn't have friends like that."

"You, Minerva?" Poppy laughed. "You had friends coming out your ears."

"Quidditch fans do not count as bosom buddies, Poppy. You, I think, are one of the few from back in the day."

Poppy looked on her friend kindly. "You protect what is your's, Minerva. You always have." She pointed her thumb to the trio poking at Sirius. "They know you're there for them. That's what matters. There was a time not so long ago, the only one who cared about Gryffindor was Gryffindor or Slytherin with Slytherin. It warms my heart to see such things fall to the wayside in favour of friendship."

"Sometimes I think we do a disservice to the children," Minerva said somewhat sadly. "Sorting them so early into a House with such blazon expectations of that that means. Does it really help them to be given a category rather than let them grow into what they truly are? Maybe, save the sorting until they are fifth year. By then, we should have a good idea of how a young person reacts to life, responds to challenge, or chooses what is important to them."

Poppy placed a hand on Minerva's shoulder. "Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw were once the best of friends. It wasn't until they made the four separate Houses that things started to sour. Back when they shared duties as they shared students, they remained the best of friends," she said wistfully. "Sometimes I wonder if creating these competitions between the Houses instead of creating activities to build teamwork between them all, we instill prejudice instead of acceptance and strife instead of harmony."

Minerva nodded. "Friendly competition is better when people are solid in their friendships to not take it personally. Perhaps, we should let our students find their friendships first before throwing them into things that could test them."

"Moving mountains, my dear Minerva?" Poppy chuckled. "It's not even lunchtime yet."

The feline Animagus smiled.

Poppy's face flickered with something unidentified. "Be careful, Minerva," she said softly. "I know you are close to Albus in more ways than most of us, but I cannot help but think he's purposely ignoring my suspicions of the trend of students coming into the hospital for supposedly random events."

Minerva nodded grimly. "His treatment of my apprentice has made me suspicious, Poppy," she admitted. "There isn't much I can do about it right now, save keep her protected from the things I can without smothering her."

Poppy nudged her, chuckling as Sirius was sticking out his tongue at his sister, and the prim and proper Hermione Black tackled her brother down on the bed and started tickling him into submission. "You care for them, those three, I mean," she noted.

Minerva had a soft expression. "It's like having three apprentices at once, Poppy. Never a dull moment."

"You love it though, don't you?" Poppy said with a knowing smile.

"Perhaps," Minerva said vaguely, but her eyes sparkled. "They study hard, mind well, report to me as they should. They do a lot of things you wouldn't expect someone their age to take so readily to. They push my buttons and boundaries like any child, but not so much that I want to strangle them."

"Spoken like a true mother," Poppy said with a wink.

"Psh," Minerva answered, but the corner of her mouth twisted upward.

"It's good to see you smiling again, Minerva," Poppy said with a smile, turning to gather the medications for her patients.

McGonagall stared over to where Sirius was trying to get the upper hand on the tickling attack only to have Remus and Severus team up against him for Hermione's sake. The children laughed, beating on each other with pillows. Red or green, gold or silver, fur, feathers, or scales made no difference in the end.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"It's beautiful!" Hermione said with a small squeal that would have made Ginny Weasley proud.

The cat Animagus had helped them fix the entrance to the Shrieking Shack, mend the wolf abused trapdoor, and make the inside a little less sterile. Making the situation into a learning opportunity, she helped them but in one-way unbreakable windows that would let them look out as well as let some well needed ambient light in without letting curious eyes break in.

The main room had been changed, the bed had been expanded into a sort of low futon type mattress that was less abused by paws and talons.

"I've never seen a mattress like this, Master," Hermione burbled, sitting down on it with a smile.

"When I travelled to Japan as as visiting professor, it was customary to fold your mattresses and bed linens up during the day, leaving the highly coveted floor space open for regular sitting or entertaining. I made a few adjustments to accommodate for," she trailed off for a moment, "claws and paws."

Hermione grinned. Remus fell back on it, looking like he was going to make a snow angel. Severus tried to look detached, but Hermione pulled him down with a laugh, making the black-haired wizard sputter.

Minerva covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes smiled even when her face did not. "There is no reason that you should all be cooped up in here and have it look like a sanatorium," she said.

Severus looked around. "I will admit, the decor is much better."

Hermione gave an amused snort. "At least it is not my father trying to decorate. He is," she gave a small sigh, "better in other areas of expertise."

Remus and Severus chuckled.

"Where is your friend, children? Miss Evans?" Minerva asked. "Does she not agree with your moonlight activities?"

The trio looked down at the mattress.

"She doesn't know, ma'am," Remus said after a moment.

"She brews shampoos, conditioners, and hand creams," Severus said. "She says the full moon is the only time the efficacy is perfectly balanced."

Minerva sat down in the nearby chair, looking at them. "Do you believe her?"

Severus scratched his head. "I believe she believes it."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin," Minerva said with a smile. "It must be hard keeping something so significant from a close friend."

The trio nodded, looking a bit sad.

"But," Minerva continued. "Surely what you have forged has become something worth keeping close to your hearts?"

They looked at her, smiles starting to creep across their face. They nodded slowly.

"Sometimes, children," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Friendships take many turns to find the same road. Drifting away does not always mean you will not meet up again. What you have now is important, yes?"

They nodded to her as though she had asked if they wanted to hear a bedtime story.

"Professor Slughorn has kindly taken the first vial of your potion to Master Bayberry earlier today," Minerva said. "Master Bayberry has a very excited volunteer ready to take the first trial. Horace said he would stay with them all night and see what happened. You should have seen him. I haven't seen the man so excited to be a part of something since he was invited to box seats at the World Quidditch Cup."

The trio smiled up at her.

"He's been very kind to us," Remus said.

"Supportive," Severus said.

"Slytherin," Hermione quipped.

Minerva laughed. "All of the above, children," she said gently. "Horace has always been very interested in the success of his students. It so happens that benefits him as well, but do not mistake it as being less of a concern just because you don't see an immediate benefit to him. He does care in his own way."

Remus looked up to the ceiling where Minerva had crafted a glorious mosaic of dragons soaring through the clouds and breathing fire. "The calculations were flawless. The formula was flawless. It just took months to get it balanced for items we could acquire. But, it must work. It has to."

Minerva grasped Remus' hand. "Then it will work, Mr. Lupin, and the world will be changed for the better. I'm sure tomorrow we will get the news from Horace first thing."

Remus looked into Minerva's face with such hope, and Minerva realised that it wasn't hope for himself as it was for those who suffered without what he had somehow found. He had found it without questing for it. Despite all of what his parents had done to try and cure their son, their son had made his own cure by finding peace with his wolf without them—not by paying money or accomplishing some great magical feat, but finding friendship, acceptance, and the pack that had had been waiting for him to find them.

Remus winced, and in a flash, was a wolf. He whined softly, wagging his tail. Severus and Hermione smiled at Minerva and were instantly in their Animagus forms. Hermione yawned beakily and pecked Remus under the chin. She warbled melodiously and preened Severus on the head.

Minerva, unsure what was going to happen, slipped into her tabby cat form, curling up on the chair in a ball.

Remus whined, his eyes bleeding into gold, and his wolf muzzle cracked and shifted backwards, shortening slightly. His teeth lengthened, and he slavered visibly.

Tuft wagged his tail, engulfing Hermione's head with his mouth, his tongue slurping her feathers in greeting. Severus attempted to escape, but the werewolf was too fast, and soon, Severus too was dripping with a copious amount of werewolf slobber covering his feathers.

Minerva snorted, her whiskers wobbling as she batted her own nose with her paw.

Tuft approached her, tail wagging, and in a flash, his mouth was around the cat Animagus. Minerva meowed in protest as the werewolf draped his jaws around her, tucked her behind his fangs, carried her into the middle of the mattress, and flopped down. His tongue bathed her until she, too, was looking a little damp.

The silver tabby meowed despondently over the state of her fur, and clawlessly batted at Tuft's muzzle. Once the tabby was sufficiently coated in "healthy" amount of werewolf drool, Minerva instinctively tried to groom her fur back in place.

Hermione tugged on Tuft's tail, and the werewolf yipped and whirled around, then chased the mischievous phoenix up the stairs. There was a series of scrapings of claws against the floor, bumps, whines, and thuds. After a few minutes Hermione came flying down the stairs and back into the room, landing next to Severus.

The Bateleur eagle eyed her strangely and reached over with his beak to preen her head crest feathers, which were slightly askew. She preened him back in thanks, giving a soft chirp and warble.

Tuft came trotting down the stairs, bounded over to where his pack was gathered, and flopped down. He placed his jaws gently around each bird, pulling them towards him, and then manoeuvred his jaws around Minerva, dragging her over to him as well then lay on his side and relaxed.

Minerva, slightly startled by the chain of events, felt the thrum of relaxed energy around her. The two birds snuggled into Tuft's soft belly fur, and his muzzle wedged into Minerva's belly fur before Tuft closed his eyes. It wasn't soon after that Tuft's soft snoring and the echoing breathing from the two birds informed her that "the dangerous werewolf" was under control, and she was probably not going to be able to leave anytime soon thanks to being blocked in by a werewolf muzzle and his forelegs.

She would later note that she hadn't slept so well in a long time.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Big exam tomorrow. Hold me!


	24. Master Barberry Makes His Move

**A/N:** Zoë Wanamaker was on Poirot this afternoon. I giggled with happiness. All hail, Madam Hooch!

**Beta Love:** fluffpanda (fluffy pandas are the best, obviously)

**Chapter 24: Master Barberry Makes His Move**

_Thursday, August 13th, 2009, Moon Last Quarter 54%_

"My Lady," one of the nurse's voices carried into Ron's room. "Are you sure you wish to enter the room without an escort?"

"I assure you, Nurse Chambers," a smooth voice clipped off the nurse's question, "I will hardly be going in alone."

"Of course, my Lady," the nurse practically grovelled.

Ron's eyes widened as a woman of average height but exuding a commanding air around her stepped gently into his room. Her jet black hair was gently streaked with almost bright silver strands, her tresses pulled back tightly with ornate sculpted metal clips securing the hair behind her. On one shoulder was a huge dark eagle owl and on the other was an even larger raptor of some species Ron had never seen before. The eagle's dark black feathers and red face was very striking, contrasted only by the sienna brown feathers on its back. Beside her, heeling by her calf, was the largest dog he had ever seen. The dog's fur was dense and appeared to be golden brown, but upon closer inspection, was a mix of amber, honey, and light blond. His eyes, however, were a dark emerald green. They stared at him in an unnervingly piercing manner. The owl launched from her shoulder and perched on a nearby Shoji screen. The eagle, however, remained on her shoulder.

It was only when the woman came closer that Ron realised who she was.

"'Mione!" Ron exclaimed, forgetting entirely how he'd gotten stuck in a bed at St. Mungo's to begin with. "Get me out of here, yeah?"

The dark eagle on Hermione's shoulder unfolded it's wings, flapping them out as if to catch the rays of the sun. "Tell me, Mr. Weasley," Hermione answered him dispassionately. "Why would I wish to free my attacker from the place he put himself in?"

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron protested. "I appreciate your zeal in making it look good, but I'm sorry okay? Just let me out of here."

"Mr Weasley," Hermione said coldly. "I am over twenty years your senior. If that wasn't enough on its own, I am also Hermione Ankaa Black of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, and I do not wish to suffer your use of familiarity with me. Your connection to me is seven years of your failure to grasp all but the basics of Transfiguration. As I recall, had it not been for a certain Mr Granger bailing you out, you would not have made the grades for your current, or should I say, former occupation."

Ron fidgeted in the restraints. "'Mione, look, it's not funny anymore," he said, sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm sorry for throwing you into that wall with Harry, but you made me so mad, you see? We were meant to be together! Ever since we got together in the war."

The large, furry, and very angry looking canine beside Hermione growled lowly, and for a moment Ron though he saw something golden flash across the eyes. Hermione's hand went between the pointed ears of her growling companion, and the moment they touched, the curled lips relaxed around its bared teeth.

"I assure you, Mr Weasley," she said with the enthusiasm of one greeting ditch weed stuck to the bottom of their shoe, "that I am a happily married witch." The sides of her mouth quirked upward in a smile so brief it may not have been there at all.

"Snape," Ron cursed.

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, using her fingers to tug her outer teaching robe in on her. The deep emerald lining of her robe flashed briefly. The eagle on her shoulder shifted its weight and glared at Ron. "That's my name, as the Muggles say, Mr Weasley," she said with a forced smile. "Don't wear it out."

"No! No no no no no," Ron muttered. "There is no way you married that greasy git of the dungeon!"

Hermione's eyes flashed golden for a moment and returned to normal. Ron, unfortunately, was too busy freaking out over Hermione being married to Severus Snape to noticed that and the echoing golden flash of eyes mirrored between the eagle and the "dog."

"To be fair," Hermione said with an evil glint in her eyes. "It could have been Remus, but Severus was quicker on the ball, as they say."

Hermione watched her words sink into Ron's brain, enjoying his look of horror and disgust. To him, Hermione was his age, and Severus Snape and Remus Lupin were ancient. They might as well be half-rotted mummies instead of men.

"I am the same age, Mr Weasley," Hermione purred softly. "Your thoughts are so transparent, as though you think I'm some young thing that just graduated from Hogwarts." She stared into his eyes, her grey irises flashed dangerously. Her fingers soothed the fur under her hand in a casual gesture that only barely seemed to rein in the deathly glare the animal was giving Ron. "I fear you have me confused with someone else."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione, please," Ron's voice desperately seeking her out.

"Ah, my Lady Snape," Kingsley said as he entered the room. "How good to see you again. It's been too long."

Kingsley caught her hand as she extended it, bowing down to press his lips to her knuckles.

"Auror Shacklebolt, my dear friend," Hermione purred. "How are you?" She went into a half curtsy, smiling at him.

Kingsley smiled at her. "It's always been Kingsley to you, my Lady."

"Then stop calling me 'my Lady,' old friend," Hermione admonished with a wink.

Their light-hearted banter ended with a laugh from both parties. Kingsley eyed the eagle on her shoulder and the "dog." He nodded his head silently in acknowledgement but said nothing further to them. "I fear I am here on business, Hermione," he said after a moment.

"Kings!" Ron pleaded. "Kings! Let me up, will you? This is a horrible mistake!"

"He hasn't gotten any better, I trust?" Kingsley said with a frown.

"We're intended, he would have you believe," Hermione said dryly.

Kingsley practically spit up in her face. "What?"

"We're meant to be," Hermione said.

Remus growled, lips pulling back from his teeth. His eyes flashed gold, echoed between Hermione and Severus.

Kingsley, too busy trying not to spit rudely on Hermione's exquisitely tailored robes, shook his head. "He obviously never paid attention to his parent's lessons about High Magic Courtship and Marriage bonds, did he?"

"You'd think he'd know such things, considering his parents are as tightly bound as a pair of albatrosses," Hermione quipped.

Kingsley recovered enough to blink at her. "You have odd analogies, Hermione."

"What? They are highly flirtatious, have odd dances, and they are known for their fidelity," Hermione said with a sniff.

Kingsley gave her a look. "And you would know it, somehow. You're like a walking library, Hermione. Always have been," he said with a shake of his head. "Both you and your husband."

"Excellent observation Kings," Hermione said, lifting her head up imperiously. The eagle on Hermione's shoulder reached a wing out and swatted Kingsley over the head.

"Ow! Abuse, but honestly, that is some impressive wing span. Don't make me arrest you," Kingsley chuckled. His face grew serious. "Do you wish press charges? Both of you are within your rights. He pulled his wand on you both, and he had the stupidity to lose a spell."

Hermione looked to where Ron was struggling against the restraints, rattling on about how you didn't restrain heroes. "Well, at least here at Mungo's he can get the help he needs," she said after a moment. "Maybe that will be better than throwing him into a cell somewhere to rot away. I have a feeling that will punish Molly Weasley more than him. I will defer to Severus' judgement, however. He's the one who had a wand shoved up his nose and was called a paedophile."

The disgruntled eagle on her shoulder clonked his beak over her head a few times, causing Kingsley to chuckle.

"I appreciate your restraint, Severus," Kingsley said to the eagle, shaking his head in revisited disbelief. "I would have hexed the boy into next week and probably cast a depilatory hex on him."

The eagle managed to look quite malevolent on Hermione's shoulder.

"Tell you what," Kingsley said after a moment. "I'll talk to Scrimgeour and see if we can make his punishment served as treatment and therapy here at Mungo's. He can hope he recovers or at least rids himself of those horrible delusions and can rejoin society without coming after random Hogwarts professors."

Hermione held out her arm and Sagacity landed upon it shortly after. He talon-walked up her arm to sit on her shoulder and hooted softly. "That will do then," she said with a grim nod.

Kingsley returned the nod. "It's been forever, you three, there's a small café a short walk from here. Care to join me for some coffee and singing hinnies?

Hermione smiled. "How could I turn down such a charming invitation?"

Kingsley smiled, pressing his lips to her hand. "I was hoping you would say so."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Saturday, April 29th, 1972, Full Moon_

Severus woke with a yawn, his lips pulling back from his teeth. A soft whine came from his throat.

Blink.

Severus's head shot up with a start. His new pointed ears swivelled and plastered to the side of his head. He backed up, four legs, paws, and claws scrambling on the mattress. He stumbled over himself and bumped into the wall, yipped, and startled himself, ploughing headlong into the pile of fur in the middle of the mattress.

Wolves went shooting off in various directions with a series of surprised barks.

Severus froze in place, every hair on his body standing straight up.

Tuft was standing in the middle of the room, ears perked forward and head cocked to the side in perfect lupine curiosity. He made a soft whine, and his tail wagged hopefully.

A black wolf had her rump backed up against the nearby armchair. Her ears were pinned back, and she had a half-snarl on her muzzle. Her tail was up, rigid, and still.

The silver tabby was looking around wide-eyed. Her ears were swivelling, and her tail was puffed out.

Severus tentatively tested out his paws, unsure what to do with himself. Feeling like a baby trying to figure out how to walk, he put one foot in front of the other awkwardly and approached Hermione.

Hermione whined softly, nose twitching.

Tuft padded over, sniffing Hermione over from nose to tail tip. He woofed lowly, tail wagging, and took a moment to lick Hermione's ears and muzzle. Hermione's ears slowly perked up as curiosity seemed to seep out. Her hackles lowered with her tail, and her tail swished back and forth slowly.

Hermione looked around, peering at Severus with what could only be nervousness. Her scent was distinctive, but there was an added layer of her lingering panic.

Waking up a wolf will do that do a person, Severus thought to himself. He should know.

Severus sniffed his paws, nose working overtime. He sniffed Hermione experimentally, and her distinctive woodsmoke and air of autumn days remained with her. It was comforting in his lingering panic. What had happened? Why was he a wolf? Madam Pomfrey had said they were not werewolves. Why then, were he and Hermione wolves?

He whined, nuzzling Hermione with his muzzle even as Tuft did the same from the other side, and the action seemed to drain the tension from the two nubile wolves. Tuft, however, seemed to think the situation was wonderful. His tail was working like a propeller, ears were perked forward, and his tongue was lolling in a lupine smile.

Hermione slowly wagged her tail and nuzzled Tuft and Severus back, her black fur started to calm down into a normal wolf pelt rather than looking like a wolf had run into a thunderstorm and tangled with Zeus.

Minerva padded up and sniffed Hermione and Severus over, her wide feline eyes asking so many questions. She placed her paw on Hermione's muzzle and meowed.

Hermione's tongue came out, and she slurped Minerva upside the face instinctively, aiming to go under her chin, but the size difference ended up bathing the side of her face in wolf slobber.

Minerva eyed Hermione with a sulky feline expression that Severus was sure cats were pulled aside to master as a species-specific speciality. Tuft slurped Minerva under the chin as well, dampening her other side. Severus felt a strange compulsion rise inside of him and within a few seconds, he too slurped the silver tabby under the chin with a submissive and appeasing lick.

Three sets of tails wagged at Minerva. They laid on their belly and stared up at the smaller cat with attentive eyes.

Minerva dripped, groomed herself back into order, and then soft-batted each of them upside the nose without her claws.

The feline Animagus rubbed up against their muzzles, rubbing her scent against them as if to lay her counterclaim upon them. The three wolves tail wagged and nuzzled the tabby mercilessly, following her around like baby ducks as she padded around the room.

Minerva led them on a merry chase around the house, and the three tore after her. They kept on her for an hour until they finally cornered her under an upstairs dresser. She zoomed out after a long stalemate, and the trio leapt back into the chase, claws scrambling on the floors.

The trio found the silver tabby on the top shelf of the bookshelf, her tail flicking tauntingly as she sprawled over the wooden shelf. They stared up at her, tails wagging, and soft whines coming from their throats.

Suddenly, Tuft whined. His body shuddered, jaws elongated, and eyes bled back into green. Equally as suddenly, the black wolf became a phoenix, and Severus found himself back in his more familiar Bateleur eagle form.

The three Animagi shifted back into their human forms, their eyes wide. Minerva jumped down from the shelf and shifted into her human form.

"Well now, children," she said with a quirked eyebrow. "Should I add this to the growing list of things you haven't told me about?" The Animagus crossed her arms across her chest in mock sternness.

"To be fair," Severus started.

"We never did that before," Hermione finished.

"What just happened?" Remus complained, confused.

Minerva rubbed her temple idly. "Just breaking every rule we thought we knew about Animagi, young Remus," McGonagall chuckled. "Turning the Wizarding World onto its rear. That's all."

Remus looked around him. "Could someone clue me in on what happened that has you all looking like we broke a priceless artefact?

Minerva patted Remus on the shoulder. "It seems, Mr Lupin, that your alter-ego, Tuft, has successfully made himself some non-lycanthropic wolf-Animagi peers."

Remus' expression went from confused to awed, and a large grin spread across his face. "Wicked!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Master Barberry smiled Minerva brought Hermione, Severus, and Remus to his residence. She smiled and gave him a courteous bow of the head as he welcomed them to his home.

"Welcome, welcome, my young friends," he said with a warm smile. He brought out a silver tray with a beautiful blue enamelled tea service on it. The sides of the cups had charmed fish swimming on the surface, which had all of the children smiling and staring at them.

"Are we missing someone?" Barberry asked. I seem to recall a red-headed girl amongst your number the last I met you."

"I fear the poor dear has a dreadful cold, Master Barberry," Minerva said sadly. "Miss Evans sends her apologies and her concern that you do not wish to catch whatever it is she has."

"Oh dear," Barberry said with a shake of his head. "I fear it is going around. Master Teaworth and Master Greenpetal have both come down with something akin to the plague. Every time Master Teaworth sneezes, something in the room randomly flies into a wall."

"That doesn't sound hardly normal, Gilford," Minerva said with some concern.

"Oh, don't worry about him, Minerva," Barberry chuckled. "Teaworth has been working on a potion that enhances telekinesis. I fear he sneezed into it when he first caught the cold, and the potion sort of gave him some unforeseen side effects."

The trio giggled amongst themselves at the image.

"However, if your friend does have the horrible cold that is going around, perhaps this will interest you, my young potion enthusiasts," Barberry said, pulling a scroll out from his robes and handed it to them.

Severus was closest and took the scroll, unrolling it so the others could see. The trio bumped their heads together in their enthusiasm to see what it was.

"This isn't the normal Pepperup Potion is it, Master Barberry?" Severus said in wonder.

"It's not the Grand Pepperup Potion either," Hermione added, her finger tapping the ingredient list.

"Very good, Apprentice Black," Master Barberry said with approval. "It is a recipe of my making. It is a tweak on the original recipes. It not only cures the common cold, but it also adds a bit of invigoration for lost magic, and bit of a relaxing formula as well. It is, unlike many that have tried to come before it, non-habit forming. My only stipulation, my young friends, is that you memorise the formula and instructions here and not share it outside of your personal use. The formula is usually reserved for our potion brewers here at the Board for places such as St. Mungo's. It is not curriculum fare."

The three nodded their heads vigorously. "Thank you, Master Barberry."

"You may, however," he added. "Brew some for Poppy Pomfrey at Hogwarts. She is an old friend and will most likely need some of it if this horrible trend in illness keeps spreading."

The trio nodded again, excitement bristling through their magic, causing a bit of a tingle in the air.

Barberry smiled. "Now, to the business at hand. I presume you wish to know the results of your potion brewing, yes?"

All three children perked up to attention.

"Horace said he had the most uneventful night," Barberry said with amusement. "He sat with a man known to be a vicious werewolf on full moons. He had escaped his family's incarceration and attacked them, and while they were able to escape without being bitten, he destroyed the inside of the house he was in. When he was caged, he would throw himself at the bars, bite himself, and do all manner of horrible things to himself, leaving his family to bandage him up and try to give him medical attention once he changed back."

Remus winced at the telling, and Severus and Hermione rubbed his shoulders in silent support.

"I'm happy to report, for the first time in his life, and this man has been afflicted with lycanthropy for upwards of forty years now," Barberry said with a nod, "he spent the night listening to Horace prattle on about potions. He slept, and he woke up saying he's never felt good waking before. It was a first. He doesn't remember anything from the change, I fear, but he was peaceful. No violence or a drive to bite the entire night."

Hermione, Severus, and Remus exchanged glances, happiness on their faces.

"This is wonderful!" Hermione said.

Remus looked like he was going to cry.

Severus looked triumphant.

Barberry smiled, nodding to Minerva. "Your potion was an overwhelming success. With your permission, I would take a few phials and spread them to other volunteers and report on the results."

Hermione and Remus nudged Severus.

"Of course," Severus said, startled.

Barberry drummed his fingers on his chair and seemed to be both approving and pleased. "Regardless of what happens with the judging panel, my young potioneers, I will offer myself as your sponsor in getting this potion tested, documented, and released for production. I think many would agree if they knew, that this potion is too significant to sit on. Between my contacts, some of Horace's, and yours, Minerva, this potion could be set to go before the end of summer. Would that be agreeable to you, my young friends?"

The three children, completely unaware of what a boon it was to have one Master let alone two putting their names on the line for them, nodded their heads vigorously.

"It would be an honour to have you with us, Master Barberry," Hermione said.

The elder Master smiled. "I know that your friend, who is currently suffering the horrible cold, is also vying for the apprenticeship for the contest due to the paperwork, but you, Mr. Snape, seem to have the backing of these two with glowing recommendations. I'm not sure I've ever seen so much parchment devoted on explaining how someone else deserved it more than they did. Usually, I see it devoted to someone trying to praise themselves."

Severus blushed, looking from Remus and Hermione with some embarrassment.

"However," Barberry said. "As it is with us old-timers, we Masters have a tendency to get what we want, and we are terribly impatient about it." He paused to wink at Minerva. The feline Animagus smiled back at him.

"I would have you, Mr Snape, as my apprentice," Barberry said. "And if my old friend here does not object, I too, would not mind sharing time between us in your studies for the lot of you."

The three exchanged a multitude of looks and wide-eyed glances.

Barberry leant back in his chair, stroking his beard idly. "Back when I was a young lad, things were not as clear cut as they are now with structured curriculum," he said with a sigh. "It's not to say that structure is bad thing at all, but what I do miss is the old Masters taking more a part in the upbringing of our youth. There is something lost when you have a classroom of students and only one teacher to divide their attention with." Barberry sniffed and looked up to the bookshelf as if to read the titles from afar.

"When I was a lad of…" Barberry paused. "I have no idea. I was barely old enough to hold a wand without tripping over it when my first Master took me under wing. He was Master Blackwing, and he was a master of all things Transfiguration. He took the form of a giant raven who made the ravens of the Tower of London quake in their feathers with envy and fear."

Hermione, Remus, and Severus scooted up closer to Barberry's chair, gathering around him for the story with excited expressions.

"Back then, it was the Master's duty to train their apprentices in all things, not just the basic lessons of life," Barberry explained. "From him, I learned everything from posture, social interactions, how not to make an idiot of myself in public, self-control, spells, and oddly enough, baking."

Remus looked at him with a curious lifted eyebrow.

"I made a stunning cherry tort, I'll have you know," Barberry said with a grin, causing the children to giggle. "It was common back then for a Master to have multiple apprentices. It was never like a class you would see today. It was intimate and personal. There was never a day I couldn't say my Master knew exactly what I was up to, and I swear to this day he knew what I was going to do before me. All Masters were specialised in Legilimency, I think. It was like the capstone class for your Mastership, otherwise you couldn't stay ahead of your apprentices." Barberry gave a genuine laugh. "Of course, back then, I had no idea what Legilimency was, so I had no idea how he knew half the things he did. It wasn't until I was a Master with my own gaggle of devoted apprentices that I realised what had really gone on. He didn't, as I had assumed, have eyes growing on the back of his head."

The trio laughed, looking to Professor McGonagall. She gave them a half-smile, but her eyes were laughing. There were many who accused her of having eyes on the back of her head as well.

What most people today do not realise, is that the older generation did not have only one master. They often had many. I had three masters after Master Blackwing, with whom I learned the intricacy of potions, the subtle craft of charms, and the insidious perfection of Defence Against the Dark Arts. I was also one of the few who was determined to excel in all of them, rather than pick a speciality. I'm sure if I had focused like my darling Minerva, my skill in Transfiguration would be far smoother, but I would like to think I'm not an old ham either."

He winked at McGonagall, and the feline Animagus huffed at him good-naturedly.

"Do not think that those who do choose one area to focus on as being less, children," he said preemptively. "There is a great deal of love that can go into specialisation and a kind of care of craft that is noble. There is nothing dishonourable it the choice."

"Now, Minerva has told me of your talents and regaled me with tales of your steadfast determination to do things together, and between your mastery of the Animagus transformation and your work on this potion project, I am willing to do something I haven't done in many a year—share."

The trio blinked at him, uncomprehendingly.

"I think between Minerva and myself, we are well equip in our faculties to take you three on between us and insure you are so stuffed with instruction that you roll out of Hogwarts with enough Mastery between you to have your own teaching careers, if you would so choose it or have your pick outside of education. Regardless of what Hogwarts would have you believe, Minerva is no slouch in areas outside of Transfiguration, it just so happens that is what they have her teach, but I think that if you three are as observant as she ways you are, you may already have suspected as such."

The trio looked at their laps to hide their smug smiles.

"She does look the unassuming tabby cat sort though, doesn't she?" Barberry asked with a wink.

Minerva laughed, shaking her finger at her once Master.

"This is my offer to you, children," Barberry said with a kind smile. "Minerva and I will take you under wing as our combined apprentices which will last until you obtain your Mastery with the Boards. Until then, it will be our combined duty to insure you are taught the skills you need to pass your mundane exams, oversee your test outs, and as due to any apprentice, teach you the speciality skills we masters like to keep out of circulation for the common rabble whose only interest is to pass. It will be your job, as formal apprentices, and well, as Miss Black already knows, to yield to our judgement, learn from what we teach you, not question until it is time for questions, learn the difference when that is, and allow us to protect you on your path to greatness. It will require trust, both on our part to you and your part to us. You must trust that the instructions we give you are for your safety and that we will look out for you, but we must also be able to trust that you will respect the sanctity of our positions and not abuse our trust."

All three students looked excitedly at each other. Not only were they being offered formal apprenticeship with the combined knowledge of Minerva McGonagall and Gilford Barberry, but they were being offered it together. They would not have to be parted in their studies. Minerva, they knew they could trust, but her trust in Master Barberry told them all they needed to know.

"We accept your offer, Master Barberry," they chimed together.

"And here I was telling Minerva that I would have to sweeten the deal with a meal and imported carbonated juices," Barberry chuckled. He took out a wooden box from his robes and opened it, exposing six lapel pins. Three were his mark in relief, and three were the official seal of the Board of Mastery that would mark them as officially sanctioned apprentices under the Board itself. "Two for the each of you then," he said with a smile. "And we should get the two of you who didn't see fit to dress appropriately some apprentice robes."

Remus and Severus exchanged excited grins. Hermione reached in, plucked two of the marks, and clipped them to her collar.

"Now, normally, the family of the apprentice pays the fees to get the horrible mountain of paperwork done, filed, copied, stamped, bled over, and appropriately lost for 2.7 years, but I took the liberty of getting that out of the way for you all. For you, Miss Black, I did the formal editing to include myself as your Master as well with Minerva's blessing."

"Under duress, Gilford," Minerva said with a sniff. "You know you hardly gave me a choice."

Barberry grinned. "Now, your robes are at the discretion of the Masters, but Minerva and I believe that keeping you looking close enough to the standard Hogwarts uniform as to not stand out will help keep you from sticking out too much to those that do not know any better. To those that do, however, will have no problem recognising you by your station. Apprenticeships overrule school uniform dress code, but there is no reason to bring undue attention to either of you.

"Because of this, it is imperative that you maintain decorum as befit your apprenticeship, as all actions you do from this point on reflect not only upon you but also your masters. In public with us, rules must be followed. You will stand behind us until invited to mingle, and speak when you are invited to.

"Both of us shall be referred to as either Master Barberry or Master McGonagall when those outside our circle are present. It is fine to refer simply to us as Master in private conversation or within the walls of the Mastery Board, as everyone there is someone's master or apprentice and sometimes both at the same time. At the next dinner, however, formal manners must be observed," Barberry paused to catch his breath. "Seeing as Minerva and I have what the Muggles like to coin 'shared custody,' I will not enforce the typical standard that you sit with us together, as I will be sitting with the rest of the panel making sure nothing blows up." He gave the children a wink.

"The rest of the boring lessons in societal expectations and formalities will wait for the remainder of the summer, where I will be dragging you three through multiple society functions so that those who need to know end up knowing who you are and who are affiliated to. By the time your potion is set to be made public, your reputation will be well established, and this is no small thing, believe me," Barberry chuckled. "Sometimes I think that is more of a battle than coming up with the formulae."

The three children looked a little gob-smacked.

"I think I broke their minds, Minerva," Barberry said as he passed the marks over to Severus and Remus.

"What have I told you, Gilford, about breaking your toys?" Minerva said with a lifted eyebrow.

Barberry tilted back his head and laughed whole-heartedly.

"You need not worry about this disrupting your time at Hogwarts," Minerva said with comfort in her voice. "Gilford and I will be communicating regularly during the week. You will be learning the majority of things from me during the week, but the weekends shall be with Gilford once we set up the floos to connect my hearth to his."

"So, tell me, my young apprentices," Barberry said with a smug smile. "What's this about an odd occurrence during your latest Bingo night?"

Three jaws hit the ground as the trio stared at him with wide-eyes.

Barberry tapped his temple with his fingers. "Come now, children," he said with a knowing smile. "I didn't just fall off the Hogwarts Express yesterday."

Minerva laughed from her seat as the trio stared at her for direction on how to respond. "He's a robin red-breast," she said as if that answered everything. "It's his job to stick his beak into everybody's business."

Barberry guffawed, stroking his beard. When the shoe fits?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Never in my life, Minerva," Barberry said as he watched Hermione, Severus, and Tuft chasing each other around his back garden.

Barberry's estate was quite large, but the surrounding garden was expansive and wild, looking like a jungle paradise. The garden was normally quite neglected, but not that it wasn't well taken care of, but Barberry did not get to spend as much time out in it as he once did when he had created it.

At the moment, however, two black wolves and a brownish werewolf were chasing each other through the shrubs and hedges, growling, yipping, and frothing at the mouth. They were all waiting in their Animagus forms for the moon to rise, Tuft surfaced for the evening, and poof. One phoenix and one Bateleur eagle became wolves to join with Tuft in his romp around the new place. This time, however, Hermione and Severus embraced the change and used it to chase, be chased, and explore the garden in a manner that only the four-legged wolf could—nose first.

Minerva and Gilford sat on the balcony overlooking the garden, watching the wolf antics going on in his garden. "I could hardly believe it when you said it, Minerva," Barberry confessed. "Have you any idea how it happened?"

Minerva shook her head. "There is a strong bond between them, Gilford. Stronger than those three together than with me, but even I feel a pull to be there with them. Hermione and Severus were attacked the other night by some intruders on the grounds. They had tried to let loose Remus on his friends to get them killed or injured, but instead of attacking them, he saved them. He then came back, cleaned their wounds, and snuggled up next to them for the night like he always did. This 'Tuft,' as they call him, recognised them even when they were human and chose to defend them. Something significant happened that night. It changes everything we've ever believed about werewolves."

"Without the use of the potion too," Barberry said with amazement. "Amazing."

McGonagall nodded. "I'm not sure how Tuft would react to a human that he doesn't know, but if my guess it correct, he would only attack if there were danger to his pack. The rest of the time, he's like this—peaceful and even playful."

"If Master Blackwing could be here now," Barberry laughed. "He'd have a Kneazle right on the spot. "He was one of those people raised on the mindless beast theories for werewolves."

"I fear Mr Lupin's father is one of those people," McGonagall said sadly.

Barberry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Indeed. I was there for many of his rants against the species. I was also privy to his son's condition as I was one of people with the potion knowledge to treat his wounds back in the day. Then Lyall went all secretive, sequestered his son away, and started to treat him by himself, and that's how his scars didn't heal."

Minerva shook her head. "Did he at least ask for the proper potions?"

Barberry shook his head. "No, old friend, he did not. He wanted a cure more than anything, and everything else just fell by the wayside, including his son. There is a certain irony in that, sad as it is. Perhaps, one day, he will stop torturing his son for his grievous mistake."

Minerva looked down as three barks caught her attention.

A black-eyed black wolf, a grey-eyed black wolf, and a drool-prone brown werewolf started up at her, tails wagging in invitation.

"I think I'm being called to join the antics, Gilford," she chuckled. "Are you coming to meet them?"

Minerva was suddenly a silver tabby, and she leapt onto the side rail of the balcony, jumped down to a lower window ledge, down to a flower box, and then hopped to the ground. The wolves surrounded her, sniffing, whining, tail wagging, and licking. They followed her around the garden like a line of baby goslings.

Barberry tilted back his head and laughed.

Three bright howls answered him in response.

His garden would never be the same, and he was okay with that.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Dearest My Daughter,

You continue, my chick, to bring great honour upon our House, and I can only believe us blessed that are so well versed in doing so.

I have sent our RSVP to your new Master in regards to the Board of Potion Mastery Dinner.

That you are under the wing of two great Masters so soon in life is truly a testament to your character and to that of your devoted chevaliers. May it always remain so between you.

I have forwarded the proper amount of Galleons needed to forge your new apprenticeship seals for your official correspondences to the seal-makers, and they tell me when it is done, they will owl them to you. As much as it would amuse me to see it done, I am hoping you do not gain very many more Masters soon, as I am not sure there is much more room to be had on a seal after this one as now both your crest and the marks of your masters are crammed into it. I did look at the proof, I will confess, and it is quite distinguished. It befits you.

I will warn you, my daughter, that it is probably good that you won't be coming home just yet, as Regulus and your mother have come down with a horrible cold that even the pepper-up potion seems unable to provide relief. The house is filled with sniffling, sneezing, and complaining.

I and Denebola have been holed up in the library… hiding. Part of me is praying I do not get whatever it is they have. It sounds ghastly, and I do not want it.

Pray, however, do tell me what you have in mind for summer plans. Do tell Severus that he is, again, welcome to stay with us for the holiday if his home situation is less than desirable. The letters from Master Barberry have explained that for a time after the dinner, he will be taking you and your friends under wing for various formal Master and Apprentice functions. The list is long and through, and your mother was impressed, in between sneezes that is, of the extent of the list.

I look forward to meeting your potions group all together. It promises to be quite the evening.

As always, Regulus sends his love as does your mother. Denebola does as well. (random Kneazle footprints in purple ink)

Love, always, your father,

Orion Black (his seal, the belt of Orion)


	25. The Second Potion Contest Dinner

**Chapter 25: The Second Dinner**

Summer snuck up on Hogwarts like a sudden squall at sea, taking the students by surprise. While most of the students were perhaps ecstatic to be able to go home and be free of school, the trio had found themselves overwhelmingly sad.

Remus had to return home to his parents, and for the first time in a year, he was going to have to face his transformation alone and in a cage in the basement of the Lupin residence. Unsure what Tuft would do if he "woke" to find his pack absent, Hermione and Severus had packed him a wooden chest with phials of their Wolfsbane Potion. They had decorated the box to look like a typical teenage boy's box of Quidditch memorabilia, charmed it have the appeal of the most boring box in the world. To be safe, they put a lock on it that responded to his magical aura.

They didn't want to take any chances that his parents would find the phials and make up some story in their heads before the Potion was officially released and proven effective. Master Barberry and McGonagall had agreed that Lyall Lupin was not known for his level head when it came to his son or his son's condition. He was also not known for his tolerance for "unproven voodoo" masquerading as cures for magical ailments.

Their worry for Remus turned out to be over nothing. Masters Barberry and McGonagall arranged for the trio to stay with Master Barberry for a number of days a month, and coincidentally a few of those days just happened always to be on the full moon. So, for the days and nights of the full moon, Barberry taught them the ins and outs of apprentice life, and in the evenings, they had the garden in which to romp in.

Tuft seemed to really enjoy the garden, and Barberry enjoyed watching the three wolves following Minerva around like ducklings or scenting hounds, depending on the whim of the evening. The silver tabby had the three lupine followers wrapped around her feline toes.

Trouble had come when one of Barberry's friends had come calling on one particularly beautiful full-moon night. It was then that the strength of Tuft's bond with his pack and the effect it had on his werewolf instincts was truly put to the test.

His friend had always been added to the wards on the garden gates, and Barberry hadn't thought to change them. It wasn't until his fellow Master Willowbark had already let himself in and called to him from the garden path that a bit of panic had overtaken Barberry. There, not a stone's throw away, was Tuft. He had raised his head from the pileup near the rose bushes and stared at the visitor to the garden with ears perked forward.

Willowbark had hurried up to the house and let himself in, hustling up the stairs to join his old friend. Barberry, however, had been frozen in place, his wand in hand as though he were going to start flinging spells at any moment.

"Gilford, you stuffy old bird," Willowbark greeted. "What are you doing there with your wand out like you're about to duel someone?"

Barberry blinked and stared into the garden.

Tuft let out a lazy yawn and lay his head down on Hermione's back. The werewolf had completely ignored Willowbark, preferring the companionship of his pack to the elder wizard whose posture had not marked him as suspicious or one who was a stranger to Barberry.

"When did you ever get dogs, Barberry?" Willowbark said, sitting down on the balcony with him. "Tired of dealing with the gnomes in your garden?"

Barberry laughed at the absurdity and profoundness of what had just happened. "Yes, yes, gnomes. Horrible creatures. They leave holes everywhere."

"Do let me know if they work for you," Willowbark chuckled. "The wife has been trying to get rid of ours for years. She's tired of spraining her ankle on the holes. Worse than gophers."

Barberry laughed, summoning a tea tray with the wave of his wand. "I will indeed, old friend. Sit and tell me the news."

And as if to support Barberry's excuse for their being there, the pack tore off after a group of garden gnomes, chasing them mercilessly around the garden paths. Barberry saluted them with his teacup.

He felt sort of sorry for the gnomes. Almost.

-o-o-o-

Severus attempted to return home to his parents for the summer, but the short letters he sent to Hermione told her much about the condition at home. He told her that his father spent most of his time drunk when he wasn't passed out, and it was only when he was passed out that Severus and his mother had a moment's peace. The peace never lasted, however.

Lily went on holidays with her family. They travelled to a number of places the first few weeks she returned home. She wrote a few postcards via the Muggle Post from each place she went and sent random things such as key chains and odd little pens. The pens were twisted into strange shapes and marked with the name of some random place she had visited. She said she was a little nervous about the upcoming dinner with the Board of Potion Mastery. It would be the first time her parents would see a glimpse of the Wizarding world outside of Diagon Alley.

Hermione spent most of her time deflecting a hundred and one questions an hour about what Regulus would expect his first year at Hogwarts. He did this incessantly until she was ready to lock her little brother in a wardrobe with a Muggle version of a silencing spell: a gag. Every few days, she would alternate between flooing to one or the other of her Masters, learning the mannerisms and method of her two Masters in a more intimate way. Now that Minerva was not teaching and wrangling thousands of Wizarding children at all hours of the day, she had more attention for Hermione and rest of the trio. The bond between herself and Minerva seemed to be all the stronger, especially after Tuft's claiming the silver tabby as "his."Hermione Granger seemed to be at peace inside of Hermione Black in regards to the growing bond between herself and the Scottish Animagus.

Minerva was one of Hermione Granger's only remaining contacts to a world that was buried only in her memory. While there were others that had technically shared her future past with her, the relationship with Minerva McGonagall had not changed. Minerva was still her professor and Master, and it calmed the part Hermione that clung her old identity.

Hermione would often sit in the park across from Grimmauld Place and stare into the water fountain. Sometimes she could count the coins people threw into it as a meditation, and sometimes she just watched the ripples as a sort of cathartic peace came over her. It was during these times that Hermione Granger and Hermione Black had conversations with each other. Her old self would speak to the person she had become and compare notes.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're changing the way things are supposed to be?" Granger sulked, sitting the edge of the water fountain.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're trying to bother me to complain about a world where your supposed best friend wiped you off the face of history?" Hermione asked back at her other self.

"He didn't mean it…" Granger said, biting her lip.

"Oh, and death curses are so trivial," Hermione hissed. "We ended up together because Magic put us here. You have to trust that Magic knows what it was doing, even if we don't."

"Magic is a tool," Granger said. "It is controlled by people, which can be good or bad depending on what they do with it."

"Pretty words," Hermione argued. "But you have felt the Magic that binds us to Remus and Severus. It is Magic, and it is true. It was no one's too, yet it exists. Magic exists without us. It does not exist solely for our use."

"That's not what I said," Granger said, crossing her arms.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and rubbed it. "We are the phoenix. We burn brightly to be consumed by it only to rise from the ashes anew. That is our Destiny. That is our Magic."

"We make our own choices," Hermione said, pressing her lips together. "We have freedom."

"What is freedom, but the chance to make the choices out a hundred thousand choices that bring us to the very place we are meant to?" Hermione said. "Of all the people to be born to, Hermione Granger was born to Mr. and Mrs. Granger on September 19th, 1979. She was born to two Muggles who knew nothing of magic, wizards, or witches. They knew nothing of Dark Lords, hippogriffs, or dragons save what they thought were fantasy books meant for children and dreamers. Their magic was the art of teeth. Yet, little Hermione Granger was born of them, and she was a witch. The brightest witch of her age to some. Mudblood to others. She stood by her friends, despite how horrible they were to her. She saved their lives, despite the fact they rarely ever listened to you the first three or four times you screamed at them to be careful for whatever reason.

"This witch shed her naivety, cast Dolores Umbridge to the centaurs to save her friends' lives, was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, Obliviated her parents and sent them to Australia, and at the same time fought a ludacris war against the unfair treatment of house-elves. This Muggle-born witch survived a great war of magic, stood by her friends, and survived. She rose up in the ranks of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and found her life unfulfilled. She apprenticed to a great witch named Minerva McGonagall. She became an Animagus and a phoenix. She rose out of flames and became a professor and an inspiration to students throughout Hogwarts.

"Yet, this same witch is cast aside by her best friend. She is blooded against the family tree of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and hit with a curse so vehement with Dark intent that it blew her off the face of creation. Despite this, she rose again. Here. Now. With me. How can you not believe in Destiny?" Hermione spat at her.

"How is this Destiny?" Granger cried. "I should be able to go home! I should be able to make things right and…. and…"

"Wake up in a cold bed, have no Pack that calls to you, have a best friend who tried to kill you, have a world where Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and countless others are dead? Will you deny Severus this desperately treasured piece of happiness he has found? Will you deny Remus the peace he has found in his wolf that he never had in your precious time-line? Will you cast Regulus to the death his fate will give him? Unknown and unloved by his brother never to know the love of the sister he never had? Will you condemn him to hide in that wardrobe alone while Walburga screams at Sirius about being a blood-traitor son that is unfit to wear the name of Black?" Hermione spat the last at her future self.

Granger had tears in her eyes. "But… Harry…"

Hermione curled her lip. "Do you think we will just idly sit by and allow Harry's parents to simply die? Do you think that this Severus, the one touched by love before he could cast himself into the Abyss of Dark magic and bitterness, will be sitting outside the tavern waiting to carry the prophecy to his Dark Lord?"

"No!" Granger protested.

"And if you force us back into that empty and horrible world you think should be waiting for you," Hermione hissed. "What happens to Severus? How much of him will you break before you condemn him to death by the fangs of his Dark Lord? Will you be content as he pines for the love of his childhood friend he inadvertently killed and the witch that left him alone to the past? How much of Remus will you condemn when his first true friend that accepted him when no one else would vanishes off the face of creation? To what end? To go back to that horribly lonely world where Voldemort has destroyed everything? Sure, the 'light' won in the end, and how many years did it take before Minerva could look at Hogwarts during a sunset and not cry as she held you like you were the last thing in the world left to her? Do you want that for her?"

"NO!" Granger said, putting her head in her hands.

"Your world didn't want you anymore, Granger, wake up," Hermione hissed. "But Magic did not give up on you. Magic pulled you to its bosom, gave you life, and gave you purpose. It gave you a childhood you weren't able to have the entire time you were at Hogwarts. It gave you family."

"I had a family!" Granger protested.

"And you gave them up," Hermione said steely. "You Oblivated them and sent them away. You made the choice to do it. You didn't even tell them what you were going to do, no. You just made them into someone else and shoved them to Australia."

"It was to save their life!" Granger sobbed.

"It was to save your own guilt if they had wanted to stay and be there for you for YOUR sake!" Hermione hissed. "Because they would have! They would have stayed until the end to support their misunderstood magical witch of a daughter. They would have endured torture for your sake."

"They were safe," Granger sobbed. "They were better off without me."

Hermione leaned in, her grey eyes meeting Granger's brown. "And maybe your bit of time was better off without you too. Maybe this was where you were meant to be. Making. A. Difference."

Hermione closed her eyes as the two aspects of herself rejoined each other in truce. That which was once Hermione Granger merged once more with Hermione Ankaa Black. Hermione Black may have only been twelve, but much like Hermione Granger she was capable of far more mature thought that the typical girl of her age group. On top of that, she was born, raised, and teethed on magic of the normal variety and Magic of the highest order. Lacking experience, perhaps, in places, Hermione Black knew her magic. Magic, also, knew her.

Hermione Granger had been a talented and powerful witch, but she had to learn it like learning a foreign language. She was accomplished, skilled, and beat the pants off all but the most dedicated of peers. Hermione Granger, chalk full of worldly experience and perhaps a good deal of jaded cynicism by the end of the war, had still been oblivious to the ways of magic as seen by the pure-blood side of the Wizarding world. Much like Lily, there was a whole side of things that she had never been indoctrinated into. Harry hadn't been able to teach her, practically being Muggle himself due to upbringing. Ron or the Weasleys weren't going to do it because they were about as far left field of teaching their kids the Old Ways as Ron was likely to eat brussel sprouts voluntarily. Neville was… Neville. Luna was so far into her own little world that Hermione would have come out speaking tongues before she came out understanding Old Magic.

It was only now, in this combined Hermione, that balance was truly found. Muggle-born Granger and pure-blood Black combined into the Hermione that should have been, save the few times when Granger and Black disassociated from each other and started to have an argument in a Muggle park. Everyone had their off days, she supposed.

Hermione stood up, tossing one of her few pieces of Muggle coinage into the fountain. Like it or not, Hermione Granger and Hermione Black were stuck with each other. The least they could do would be to stop arguing with each other in public.

It was probably too much to ask. She was a Black, after all. Insanity sort of ran in the family.

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Friday, July 14th, 1972, Moon Waxing Crescent 16%_

Hermione rose from her seat the moment the man tending the door announced the entrance of "Lord and Lady Black." She glided towards her father and mother and dipped into a formal curtsy. "My Lord Father," she said smoothly. "My Lady Mother," she said, staring at her mother's shoes in deference.

"My daughter," Orion said with pride in his voice.

"Daughter," Walburga said in a controlled voice, but as she dipped her head in acknowledgement, the side of her lips quirked upward a fraction.

"I would lead you to your table if it pleases you," Hermione said with ingrained practice.

"It would," Orion replied, no so secretly proud that his daughter's command of the switch between formal and casual interactions was praiseworthy.

Hermione rose to her feet and led the way to the table, pausing to pull out the seats for her parents.

"My Lord Father," she introduced to Minerva. "My Master, Master Minerva McGonagall, Master of Transfiguration. My Master, this is my Lord Father, Orion Black."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Black," Minerva said as she dipped into a curtsy and extended her hand. He took it gently in his own, bringing her hand to his lips but not quite touching her skin in formal politeness.

"Please, Master McGonagall, you may call me Orion," Orion said with a smile of permission given.

"Minerva, Orion," Minerva repeated the gesture.

Hermione introduced her mother, and they exchanged greetings. They all sat down at the table with more casual ease now that the formalities were observed, lapsing into a more familiar ease of interaction. Everything was casual chatter until Professor Slughorn came by, and Hermione snapped back into formality, introducing her parents to her Potions Professor.

Horace seemed very pleased to meet the Black Patriarch and Matriarch. When Master Barberry glided over to the table to do introductions, Professor Slughorn took over the reins. Horace showed his smooth command of formalities that one would expect of a pure-blood Slytherin such as he, and he did not disappoint. Slughorn slided off with Barberry to do introductions to his other groups and families.

Hermione's head perked up as she recognised her compatriots in apprenticeship. Both Severus and Remus stood at the entranceway as their families were announced, and each of them snapped into leading their families to the table. Everyone at the table rose to make introductions once more. Hermione went to meet Severus and Remus as they led the way. Hermione dropped into a curtsy, extending her hand, and Severus grasped it, bowing as he kissed the top of her hand. She did the same to Remus, and he returned the gesture. Their eyes flashed golden together, and a sense of complete and utter relief flowed between them at their reunification.

"My Lord Father, My Lady Mother, you know my fellow, Apprentice Snape. This is his mother, Mrs. Eileen Snape," Hermione introduced smoothly, thanking her memory for not botching Severus' mother's name.

Eileen Snape was, much to Hermione's surprise, wearing Wizarding robes. She extended her hand with the awkwardness of long lost practice but dropped into a curtsy for her parents one by one.

"Charmed to meet you, Mrs. Snape," Orion said, his grey eyes passing over Eileen with an evaluating look.

Eileen was quiet but gave Orion an acknowledging nod of respect.

Hermione switched introductions. "My Lord Father, My Lady Mother, this is Apprentice Lupin, his father Mr. Lyall Lupin and his mother, Mrs. Hope Lupin." Hermione eyed Remus somewhat nervously, hoping to Merlin she got his parent's names right too. Neither of her friends really talked about their parents often, and even more rarely did they give first names. Part of Hermione knew that first names were, technically, not as important as the family name in formal introductions, but Wizarding manners were slowly trying to incorporate first names when possible.

Remus smiled at her with a quick flash of teeth, letting her know that she didn't actually mess up his parents name.

Mr. Lupin seemed perfectly acquainted with social customs, but Hope Lupin looked like she'd just been thrown into a shark tank with a kilo of bloody steak.

The social awkwardness for Hope Lupin was broken up as Lily came running up from the door with her two parents trailing behind.

"Hermione! Sev! Remus! Oh, hello Professor McGonagall!" she exclaimed. She drew Hermione into one armed hug as she pulled Severus and Remus into the huddle for a group hug. She released them after a few seconds, leaving them to stand there, somewhat stupidly, looking as if she'd just thrown them into a hot beach with no protective footwear. "Mum, dad, this is my Transfigur—one of my teachers, Professor McGonagall, and this is Sev, Remus, and Hermione."

Hermione shook off her stupified expression and tried her best to salvage the situation. "My Lord Father, Lady Mother, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, Mrs. Snape, this is my fellow potioneer, Lily Evans and her parents," Hermione made a face to Severus. She had no idea what in nine hells and the gods above Lily's parent's names were. A few notable examples of colourful vernacular did come to mind, unfortunately. "Mr. and Mrs. Evans," she said in a rush, looking very uncomfortable, praying that the old Wizarding habit of ignoring first names would cover her distress.

"Pleased to meet you, Sirs and Madams," Mr. Evans said, holding out his hand to Orion to shake, Muggle fashion.

Surprisingly, at least to Hermione, her father seemed to switch into a different sort of mode when dealing with Muggles. Muggles, as he saw it, didn't know better. They were allowed their social gaffes, much as Muggles boggled but accepted when certain Wizarding folk failed at modern Muggle dress.

Orion shook hands with Mr. Evans in flawless Muggle-fashion, and his action seemed to oil the gears that led the rest of the gathered to greet the Evans family with a brief if slightly awkward, handshake.

Severus, Hermione, and Remus waited for their parents to sit down and then waited for the signal from Minerva that it was clear for them to sit.

Lily sat down, pulling her chair into the table and smiled at everyone at the table.

Orion seemed to be amused, but Walburga looked fit to be tied, or as much as her formal inexpressive public face could look fit to be tied.

Minerva nodded to her Apprentices, and the trio gratefully took their seats beside her.

An elderly witch stood up at the front of the room, and there was a hush that fell over it. "Ladies and Gentle witches and wizards. Welcome to our second dinner of the Board of Potion Mastery. Today, we are here to honour those whose formulae have not failed to impress us in their originality and execution. None that are here are anything but the best of praise. It will be extremely difficult to choose a winner from all those here, but rest assured, all of those here are truly winners in their own right. There should be no doubt of this. Please, celebrate with us, friends and family, for those you are here to support have worked very hard to be here, and there isn't one of them that doesn't deserve. I think it will be no surprise that some of the masters have been very eager to get their hands upon their prospectives. Some of which have never been known for their… self-restraint in such matters," she tutted and clucked her tongue.

The elder witch passed a smug smile to a few of the Masters, who gave her their best halo look. Chuckles went up and down the front table.

"For now, eat, enjoy, and celebrate with us!" the elder witch said, clapping her hands, and the tables were suddenly swamped in delicious food and rink.

Hermione, Remus, and Severus noted that there were quite a few others in the room now wearing the distinctive apprentice robes and the marks of their claiming masters. They were not the only ones, it seemed, that had been scooped up before the contest was even done.

Slughorn had been correct when he had speculated that win or lose, those that made it to the later steps of the contest were going to have quite a bit of positive publicity and padding for their future careers, whatever they may be. There were many at the dinner that were far older than the trio, and being chosen as an apprentice was a great and immediate boon for those who without pressing job offers being thrown their way. The trio, however, would be blessed that their early assimilation would have then prepared to walk into a specialised job as a master the moment they graduated. There wouldn't be a place that wouldn't want someone like that, from the Auror's Office, the Ministry, or places such as Hogwarts.

Slughorn has been so ecstatic to see the trio wearing their matching apprenticeship robes that he practically oozed pride over them. The following Slug Club Dinner had been alive with talk and praise. Farrant and Maine had shown up in healer apprentice robes. The pair had been snapped up by a Healer at St. Mungo's for their work on the improved boils cure, and apparently the Healer that had claimed them was beyond enthusiastic to do so. Farrant, a hardworking Hufflepuff, and Maine, a brilliant Ravenclaw made a team that few could deny was a perfect match for what they had achieved together. Their passion to heal was matched only for their selflessness, and Slughorn had a taken a photo of the young apprentices together and placed it on his shelf.

The trio had asked Minerva and Gilford if the contest was really about bringing potentials into the sights of predatory masters who wanted apprentices rather than an altruistic award of an apprenticeship to the winning party.

Barberry had laughed whole-heartedly. "You miss little, my apprentices. Such skill in observation shall serve you well."

Lily had taken the news of the trio's being pounced on by Barberry with mixed emotions. She seemed to think that it was because she was out that day suffering from a cold that she was not offered a place with them with Master Barberry. The truth was that Barberry had no interest in Lily. She had not, unlike the trio, made a sizable impression on Minerva, and it was through Minerva that the three had ended up on Barberry's radar. By the time the potion formula had entered into it, Barberry was already nibbling on the line. He had just been waiting, gauging, and choosing his time like a quintessential Slytherin.

The elder witch who had accused the masters that had taken apprentices before the contest may have joked that each of them had horrible self control, but the truth was they had quite a bit of it. The difference was, they knew exactly when to make a grab for what they wanted before someone else did.

Lily had stopped pouting about it when a woman from Witch Weekly came to interview her and her brewing group about their upcoming line of haircare products. She became the reigning celebrity of just about every witch in Gryffindor Tower according to Remus. Everyone was swamping her with questions and following her and her brewing buddies like they were the saviours to hair.

Severus had quipped that his hair had still not recovered from her first disaster with hair-care products, and Lily had snubbed him, saying it served him right for having horrible hair to begin with. The black-haired wizard shook his head, unimpressed by the attempt to impress her friends through the teasing of him in public, simply turned and walked away and hadn't stopped walking until he was under the old oak tree that had become the trio's refuge against the panoply that was Hogwarts social gymnastics.

After about an hour of leaning up against his pack-mates, he had confessed that it really shouldn't have hurt him having Lily using him to make herself look better in the eyes of her friends. It wasn't exactly a new tactic for their age group, and she was not, by far, the only one who ever engaged in the practice. Unlike the trio, Lily was not wearing a constant reminder of her accomplishments in the form of apprenticeship robes and marks, and even the trio had to admit that her actions were probably her way of trying to feel good about herself in shadow of her friends accomplishments. The praise and attention she was getting from the growing number of fans throughout Hogwarts would most likely die down to a dull roar after time, and the Lily they remembered would return to them, eventually.

Hermione had enveloped Severus in a warm hug, giving to him what she had never had problems doing since their first week at Hogwarts: acceptance. "We'll just have to work on something for you hair on our own, Severus," she chuckled.

Severus scoffed. "It's fine. I sort of got used to my hair being a failure since then. I kind of use it as a reminder."

"Oh?" Hermione had asked. "What of?"

"Never trust a woman bearing shampoo," Severus answered with a sniff.

Remus had belted out laughter as Hermione rolled her eyes, giving her friend a playful shove.

Hermione realised as Severus' dark eyes had met hers and a small smile played about his lips that she was truly thankful to have found a friend in the lonely boy. There was a great part of Severus that had been aged beyond his young age, much like Harry had been forced to thanks to the Dursleys. Severus' horrible home life had given him the taste of bitterness and despair before most children their age even knew what such things were let along experience it. Yet, when Hermione Granger saw his genuine smile that so subtle it could have been missed and watched how the warmth reached his fathomless eyes, she knew that Hermione Ankaa Black had been right. She could not deny him this piece of happiness anymore than she could deny Remus their friendship. They had become intrinsic to her life as much as Orion was her father, Walburga her mother, and Sirius and Regulus her brothers.

Hermione felt the soft touch of Severus' hand on her wrist, his fingers seeking comfort from the touch of her skin. Hermione flicked her eyes over to where his mother was having a conversation with her parents.

Orion, the master of all verbal disarmament, was making pleasant conversation. Walburga had her head tilted to the side as if evaluating whether something was good to eat or fit to be cast into the fire.

Hermione stroked Severus's wrist with her fingers to reassure him. Her mother was intimidating regardless of whom she was meeting with. She had no doubt at all that if she were to go to some high society Muggle function that everyone would think her the Grand Duchess of Something-or-Another and would not even question her right to be there. Her father, however, had the somewhat unknown talent of being able to blend in to whatever social occasion required. Short of when he was wearing his finery, the elder Black could fall in with fishmongers and make it seem like he'd been throwing fish all his life. On the same day, he could turn on his heel and be mingling with the royal court without the slightest hesitation. Hermione admitted a little envy at her father's ability. Oh how her life would have been different if Hermione Granger had been so well versed in social acrobatics.

The food was, as to be expected, glorious, and soon all conversation came to an end in favour of shovelling said food into their faces. Severus seemed to be relieved he remembered which fork was the salad fork, and Remus seemed to happy he remembered to use a fork. Hermione chuckled, patting both her friends on the leg in solidarity.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans seemed to be settling in with less nervousness. The displays of magic here and there startled them somewhat, but after a while the surprise was replaced by a sense of wonder. Hermione remembered avidly her first sight of Hogwarts and how magical it had seemed before she had even set foot in the Great Hall. It was that same flicker of wonder that was on Lily's parents' faces, and she liked what she saw there. She would have liked to think, that had Hermione been able to invite the Grangers to an event such as this, perhaps they would have had a better understanding of the hidden parallel world their daughter lived in.

By the time everyone had been fully stuffed with the dinner fare, group games had materialised on the table. Their table had a game of the Wizarding version of Pictionary with the key difference being if someone guessed the right word for the picture, the picture came to life and pranced off the page. The game had delighted the Evans family, and Orion commended that it was a game meant for Regulus.

Hermione noted that Severus' mother seemed to have a very wistful look upon her face. The part of her wondered if Severus' parents had met and married in love but had it end badly due to her being a witch. Had it been because of the betrayal of finding out that the one you loved had an entirely different life once? Had it started when Severus had started to throw around accidental magic, and Eileen couldn't hide the truth? Or had there been lost love between his parents long before Severus?

Hundreds of thoughts and questions went through Hermione's mind, and unlike Hermione Granger, who would have balked at being nosey at Professor Snape's private life, Hermione Black had no such scruples on her curiosity. Severus was her friend, and it was natural to want to know things about your friends. It's not like Hermione Granger didn't recall thousands of intimate details of Harry and Ron's life whether she wanted to or not.

Something was keeping the older witch with a man who held no love for her. Something was more powerful than being beaten on regularly as her husband came home in a drunken rage. Why else would a fully capable witch stay in such a situation? Why not raise Severus alone and away from his horrible father?

Hermione Black shuddered at the very thought of Muggle divorce. To a pure-blood, marriage was not just words on a piece of parchment. It was the binding of two people and their combined magic together. It was the most sacred of bonds. There were three types of marriages in pure-blood society. Pre-arranged marriages, which may or may not have contained love, but upon marriage they were bound together magically, were the first kind. The second were marriages for love, which also ended with the pair being bound magically upon marriage. The third, however, was most sacred covenant of all. Those that instigated courtship, initiated the four sacred kisses of mind, friendship, equality, and love could find themselves bound together by the Old Magic. Magic chose to bind the pair together, and it didn't matter what pre-arranged marriage may have been said on paper, the bond was the epitome of marriage. The couple would find themselves bound together in magic and soul. It was undeniable.

It was also considered the highest form of High Magic possible. If it happened to you, Magic had decided your fate, Magic had judged you pure, and Magic would flow through your family forever. It was the only way a non pure-blood could be accepted into pure-blood society and not have their magic or purity questioned. It left a mark upon their family as obvious as a brand. It was said that was how the pure-blood families were founded at the very beginning of all things. Magic had chosen. It was also the reason why marrying outside those that were considered "blessed" by magic was viewed as a poor choice.

Many pure-blood young witches dreamed of finding the one that would sweep them off their feet, engage them in courtship, and find that their first true "kiss" bestowed upon them the ultimate blessing of Magic's mark. Sadly, it wasn't as common as the stories would have them believe. Hermione had grown up believing in it, however. Her parents were bound that way. Apparently Orion had bestowed Walburga a kiss under the embarrassing Mistletoe at a family function, and Magic had done the rest. Prearranged marriage contracts were nullified, and the two were officially wed the moment they came of age. No one in the Ancient and Noble House of Black thought twice about it.

Bellatrix Lestrange had married shortly after her graduation to Rodolphus Lestrange in an entirely expected lateral move. There had been no contract or duty, but Bellatrix was the type to accept nothing but wealth and pure-blood marriage prospects. Secretly, the family was somewhat relieved that she married at all. There was some worry that Bellatrix' less than stable personality would be a turn off to any stable-minded suitor, but for whatever reason, Rodolphus seemed to find Bellatrix suitable material for his wife. There had been no talk of children, which was always a disappointment to most pure-blood families. People couldn't help but think that Bellatrix and Rodolphus shared a mutual desire to tolerate each other and be childless, living to the very minimum of what was expected in society. Whatever they married for, it was not love, and Magic had judged them and found them lacking, refusing to bestow upon them its ultimate blessing.

As Hermione pondered the fate of Eileen Snape, she couldn't help but wonder if there was a safe place the witch could go to, and if there was, would she go to it if she had the opportunity? Hermione resisted the temptation to slam her head onto the table. All of this speculation was moot. She wasn't Hermione Granger with contacts in the Ministry of Magic in Britain or Bulgaria anymore. Her contact in Bulgaria hadn't even been born yet. She was twelve, and while she arguable had more money set aside in her private vaults than Hermione Granger had after years of saving, she wouldn't be seeing that money under her control for quite some time.

Lyall and Hope Lupin were a curious couple. Hope seemed to be relying on Lyall for all her social cues, but they seemed like a completely normal pair. Normal was such an odd concept. What was normal for a wizard who married a Muggle and had a half-blood son who was turned into a werewolf? Even taking away the entire wizard and Muggle combination, would two parents desperately trying to cure their son and at the same time lock him in the basement of their home in a cage three nights a month be considered… normal?

To be fair, Hermione admitted that Remus' solution to his problem had been a little unorthodox to the typical "lock them away" standard that the Wizarding world tended to favour. There wasn't exactly a support group for parents whose children were werewolves or Animagus classes for Wizarding families with werewolves amongst their number. The potion they had been working on—Potion Master Severus Snape's original formula for an older Remus Lupin—was going to be a whole new world for werewolves who were desperate to calm their inner wolf so they would not hurt their families.

Remus had looked relieved to have Severus and Hermione near him once more, and they too had felt the undeniable relief of having their group together again. She imagined that there was an unspoken tension between he and his parents because of his condition. At least Master Barberry had used his influence to allow him to "care for" Remus during his moon nights, and much like how Albus Dumbledore had convinced them that it was safe for Remus to go to Hogwarts, they agreed to allow Remus to be in care of his masters on whatever days they chose.

Once they were done reinforcing their small touches to each other, they surreptitiously made small official looking touches to Minerva as well, reinforcing both the bond to their master as well as to their token tabby cat pack member. They had learned to be quite stealthy about it, and part of the game was execution with flawless subtlety. Minerva had accused Remus of sprouting scales, and Hermione and Severus grinned at her with approval.

By the time it was their turn to report on their results of their potion, it had became clear how much of a boon it was having Slughorn, McGonagall, and Barberry towing the line for them. Hermione, Remus, Severus, and Lily basically stood there as the potion results were already formally submitted, a series of sample phials were passed around for each judge to analyse, and each Potion Master seemed to be excited about the results.

"Professor Slughorn," Master Highweather called from the front table. "It is my understanding that you tested the potion on three different occasions with three different people who have had the misfortune to have contracted lycanthropy?"

"Yes, Master Highweather," Horace answered with a nod.

"And what were the results?" Teaworth said with a sneeze, causing a random cup to go flying off the table and hit the wall. Teaworth closed his eyes and rubbed the area between them. "The cold is gone, but every time I sneeze," he muttered, sniffling into a handkerchief.

Slughorn stepped up. "I gave one phial to each person before sundown due to being unsure when the change would occur. Each volunteer has been notoriously violent upon the change and has attempted to chase down and attack any and all humans before their condition was known, and they were incarcerated during full moons. Upon the change, each werewolf did not throw themselves at the bars of their containment or show aggression towards me, choosing instead to either pace or ignore me. In the morning, each reported feeling better than they had in years and suffered none of the physical abuse that werewolves are none to cause to themselves when confined.

"While none of them showed signs of their human personalities, each werewolf showed far more 'normal' wolf behaviour as one would find in the typical natural species," Horace continued. "And while each werewolf was undoubtedly suspicious of me as a stranger, there was no violence."

"Amazing," Greenpetal said with a nod, scribbling with a quill on a very long piece of parchment.

"Apprentice Snape," Highweather addressed. "From reading your analysis, you stated that you believed that this state of mind of the wolf over that of man was preferable. Can you explain?"

Severus loosened his collar. "It is my belief, Master Highweather, that the mind of a wolf at peace and in a natural state is preferable to a human mind in a werewolf body. If a person were to have a potion where the human mind was dominant during the change, it would allow abuse of the potion for those werewolves who wish to spread their affliction to others and create more werewolves or, in more distasteful situations, sow violence and discord for its own sake. A natural wolf has no such desires, and while it will defend itself and its family or pack and its territory from other wolves, it is not the sort of animal that seeks out humans and attacks them. While I believe that the formula could be tweaked to allow a human mind in the werewolf body, the regulation of the potion would have to be highly guarded due to the potential for abuse. The potion would also require multiple doses for up to a week before the change with no alteration to the end potion, or it would lose efficacy. The potion we have created can be flavoured without consequence, requires only one dose before the change, and will last the entire moon cycle for that month."

"And the research on the altered formula?" Teaworth asked.

Remus scribed the altered formula in the air as Hermione scribed the Arithmancy research on the different outcomes depending on which ingredients were used and the balance of the human-mind potion versus the wolf-at-peace potion. Lily filled up the chalkboard with the various herbs and ingredients in the base formula, substitutes, and which ingredients were absolutely contraindicated.

The scribe at the front table was furiously quilling down the information to properly document the process and research.

"Honestly, Master Barberry," Highweather muttered. "Did you train them how to break our scribe?"

"Me, Master Highweather?" Barberry said, adorning his best and shiniest halo.

Master Willowbark, who had been silently writing away with his fancy looking owl quill, shook his head. "We are looking at the combined effort of not only Professor Slughorn, but also Masters McGonagall and Barberry, Master Highweather. Since when has anyone coming from either of them been anything but prepared?"

Highweather sighed, tapping her quill to her forehead. The scribe nodded to her after a flurry of recording, stamping, wax sealing and signing.

"Well then, my young potioneers," Highweather said with both amusement and weariness. "Come here and place your seals upon the final documents. Final deliberations will happen by the end of the month, and notifications will be sent out as to the results at that time.

Lily, Severus, Hermione, and Remus filed up, poured wax on the right places, and set their seals down into the cooling wax. Slughorn and McGonagall did the same, and Barberry set his own seals down on each of the parchments and official documents.

"Tell me, Barberry," Willowbark said with a sniff as all of the parchments were being gathered. "Should we just send the galleons to your account like we do every time you take a proactive interest in taking an apprentice?"

Barberry pressed his fingers to his throat. "Me? I'll have you know I do not influence anyone in their votes!"

Highweather scoffed. "You don't have to. You're like a litmus test for talent, Barberry."

Barberry steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his chair, a smug smile upon his lips.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening," Highweather said, waving them off dismissively. "Professor Slughorn, I believe you have other groups to bring in, yes?"

Horace nodded. "Indeed I do, Master Highweather."

The elder witch nodded. "Go ahead and bring the next group in then."

Minerva herded her cubs out in front of her, gently placing her arms out to push them along.

"How do you think we did?" Lily asked as they found their way back to the table.

"I think we impressed them," Remus said thoughtfully.

Severus nodded. "I don't think they expected us to be that prepared."

"When do we get to hear the big reveal about your project, son?" Lyall asked Remus.

"If we win, I suppose, sir," he said, unsure.

"When we win," Hermione said with a tilt of her head.

"Well then," Orion said cheerfully. "I look forward to the announcement of your victory."

Hermione beamed at her father. "Father, Mother, would it be okay to have my friends over for the weekend, please?"

Remus and Severus perked up. Lily looked startled, but she gave her parents a silent plead.

"I suppose," Orion said, running his fingers over his chin. "If it pleases you, my wife?"

Walburga eyed the group of children with her eyebrow cocked. "Very well."

Hermione bounced excitedly as Severus, Remus, and Lily simultaneously gave their parents "the eyes."

"I don't see why not," Mr. Evans said with a nod from his wife.

"Very well, if Lord and Lady Black are not inconvenienced," Lyall answered for Remus.

Eileen nodded silently to Severus, giving her approval.

The four students bounced in their seats with excitement, convinced that this was a far better reward for having to suffer through the social feats of the evening.

"You are not allowed to keep Regulus up until dawn with your incessant giggling," Orion warned the children.

"But, Father," Hermione whined. "What if Regulus keeps us up with his incessant giggling?"

Orion's mouth twitched into a smile. "Welcome to my last three months."

-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Oh, Regulus, You're going to be a menace to your First Year class. His enemies are going to be unable to resist his charms and boyish glee.  
So I ask you, my faithful, who do you think will be most likely to get through to Lily about Wizarding manners without triggering her "you're not the boss of me" switch?  
McGonagall perhaps? Orion? Perhaps Regulus could notice how she acts and use his bee-charming abilities on her?


	26. A Weekend at the House of Black

Beta Love: fluffpanda (the poor lady has her hands full... FULL! So much love. SO MUCH!)**  
**

**Chapter 26: A Weekend With the House of Black**

_Saturday, July 15th, 1972, Moon Waxing Crescent 24%_

Hermione was having a moment.

It wasn't often she felt she needed to, but she woke up in the early morning gloom and proceeded to have a nervous breakdown. It wasn't a loud one. In fact, most people would have thought she just had an overly loud sniffle, but to Hermione, it was huge. Her mind was whirling with the extent of everything that had happened to her, what she had lost, what she had gained, and what she could lose if everything went pear-shaped.

It felt like she had more to lose now than when she was fighting Voldemort in her past. She felt like if she screwed things up that a horrible chain of events would happen. She would not only lose everything she had fought for the first time around, but all of the new things she never realised she missed until it became her life.

Her family, her friends… and not just the type of friends that thought you were a bossy know-it-all and won't give you a chance until a troll entered the picture either. Now, she had something that she felt if she lost it, she might as well gouge out her own heart and offer it up as an offering to the harvest gods.

Hermione padded out of her room, her bare feet touching the cold wooden floor of the house. She slipped down the hall to the master bedroom, shimmied into the doorway, and then crawled in between her mother and father by burrowing under the duvet. Within moments, her mother's arms were around her, pulling her close, and Hermione sniffled into Walburga's embrace.

Walburga was many things, and if Hermione were to list attributes of her mother, openly expressive of the most positive feelings was not one of those things that would sit at the top of the list. Usually, that was her father's area of expertise. Still, there was a depth of complexity to Walburga that no picture album or portrait could have conveyed. In this dark of the morning, tucked between the warmth of the down-stuffed duvet, Walburga drew her daughter to her body and offered silent comfort. As her hand gently stroked Hermione's hair, Hermione sobbed into her mother's chest, unable to stop the flow of tears. There was just so much to process, and it was all coming at once.

It was times like this when Hermione truly felt the love of her mother. Other times were always hampered by propriety and public image. Orion seemed more free to express himself in public though he did have his moments where his formal and sharpened manners rose in abundance. Walburga, however, was always on guard for what image she or her family was portraying. It was through her mother that Hermione had begun to understand a little more about Narcissa Malfoy. The woman had been quite brave to stand up for her son despite what could only be called "extreme peer pressure" would have her do. Whether her inspiration was truly altruistic or a selfish need to keep her son safe, Hermione didn't know, but her bravery was still there. It took a lot of it to put your life on the line for someone else.

At this moment, however, Hermione really didn't care about image or propriety. All she wanted was to feel safe. She felt her father pull in closer to both her and Walburga, his arm cradling around her even as her mother held her at the same time. It was comforting and safe. Just for now, the future didn't matter. Just for now, there was no Voldemort, lonely future, or world where the things she loved could be taken away.

She was safe in her parents' arms.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Orion had a secret weapon to get "all of his children" up for the day's activities, and the name of that secret weapon was Regulus Black. He slipped his young son an apricot pastry, made him all the more hyper with a glass of orange juice, and then threw him in the direction of the various bedrooms.

A few minutes later, his two eldest children shambled into the kitchen and grunted greetings. A few minutes after that, Severus walked in like the undead; his head thumped onto the counter next to his bowl of cereal. There was a cry of surprise that came from down the hall, and Orion smiled. The Lupin child was experiencing the first overenthusiastic pounces of Regulus. Regulus bounced back into the kitchen and affixed himself to Hermione and Severus as Orion knew he would. His sleepy daughter and Severus just eyed Regulus blearily in between bites of their breakfast.

Sirius seemed a little reluctant to join with the little "pile" effect that was happening between his daughter and her apprentice friends and Regulus. The apprentices seemed to have a hive mind, and they rose and fell together, and that included sharing each other's horrible morning manners.

"Regulus, my son," Orion purred. "Forget someone?"

Regulus looked up, his eyes going back and forth as he thought. His eyes grew wide as he remembered there was one more person to be woken up, and he dashed down the hallway.

Lily's terrified squeal came shortly after, startling Hermione, Severus, and Remus. Sirius poked his oatmeal as if it was nothing new to him.

"You act as though being woken by Miss Evan's screaming as a normal occurrence, my son," Orion said, taking a bite of his egg and toast.

Sirius speared a sausage with his fork. "The girls dormitory is across the walkway from the boys' dorm in Gryffindor Tower. Technically you cannot get there because the stairs are charmed to flatten out and tumble you backwards if you try to go up them, but you can still hear them carrying on just fine."

Hermione froze in mid-sip of her tea. How many times had Harry, Ron, Neville, and countless others hear her and Ginny giggling long into the night? She turned a few shades of red at the thought, mortified that they have heard other conversations that no male should be privy to. She made a mental note to learn telepathy and save herself the mortification of ever being overheard through a wall again.

Orion grabbed a mango from the fruit bowl, sliced it down one side and down the other, then scored it into cubes right on the peel. He placed half in front of each of his children, save Regulus. To Regulus, he gave the fruity pits and amused himself watching his young son attack the mango pits with enthusiasm, getting mango juice all over his face. It was probably good that Walburga was blissfully asleep with Denebola. Walburga would never admit it, but she had grown fond of the wayward Kneazle, and the one thing she indulged in was cuddling with the Kneazle in the early morning.

Severus and Remus seemed a little boggled at the mango half, unsure what to do. Regulus was no help at all, and Sirius was ignoring his slice for an egg and toast. Hermione picked hers up, bent the peel back, and popped the cubes of the peel, using her teeth to pluck them free.

Hermione eyed Severus and Remus with a sideways glance. "What?"

Severus and Remus picked up their mango half and attempted to eat it, with varying amounts of success. Both boys ended up with mango bits on their noses, and Hermione giggled, handing them napkins.

"Do not feel bad, children," Orion said with amusement. "Hermione has had many years of ardent practice in the art of mango wrangling, haven't you my daughter?"

Hermione grinned at him. "Yes, father."

Orion smiled, flipping through the _Daily Prophet_ and catching up on the news. He lowered the paper to see Regulus dragging Lily by the sleeve to the breakfast counter. Smiling, he went back to the paper.

-o-o-o-o-

**Muggle-born Witch Defies Apprenticeships By Opening Her Haircare Product Line After Her First Year at Hogwarts**

_Have you heard of Lily Evans? Perhaps you've been living under a rock the past few months!_

_Lily Evans and her friends from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have blasted off into their own business crafting a line of haircare products for the modern witch!_

_Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, Marlene KcKinnon, and Alice Goodacre comprise this rising star of hair products for today's witch. They have big plans to expand their line of hand cremes, blemish removers, and other such useful products within the coming year._

_Most people who are seeking licences and patents for products have the backing of a sponsor or Master, but the quartet seems convinced that they need neither to succeed. They plan to move forward with fund-raising for mass production by introducing small batches of their product to places such as Hogsmeade._

_When interviewed, then First-Year Lily Evans proudly told us, "We don't need to be apprenticed to make products that are safe and beneficial for people. These products are made to be safe for us, our friends, and anyone that uses them. We've put painstaking research into every one, and all of them are labours of love."_

_There you have it, my friends. Imagine what they will do in the next six years at Hogwarts! Away with the Master and Apprentice system! These girls are telling us that they can succeed on their own gumption!_

_The Witch and Waverly product line can be found in at the hairdressing salon in Hogsmeade, directly across from Honeydukes._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Orion put the paper down, staring at the top of Lily Evan's head as she shovelled cereal into her mouth. Publicity such as that found in the _Daily Prophet_ was hardly positive. She might get some increased activity from those curious about the products she and her friends had concocted. He had a feeling that there would be quite a bit of tension thanks to the _Prophet's_ somewhat unflattering portrayal of Lily's opinion of the Master and Apprenticeship system. It was a system that currently three of her "close" friends were bonded to, yet she had inadvertently insulted it.

Apprenticeships were and had always been one of the most respectable ways to learn a trade in Wizarding culture. No one who was Apprentice was looked down upon. It never failed to bring honour to the family whose son or daughter was taken in an Apprentice. Orion and Walburga were more than happy to bless the apprenticeship of their daughter to Minerva McGonagall and, doubly so, when Master Barberry added his name to the list. The fact that her friends were also taken under wing by the same Masters only made their friendships with each other all the more approved.

Now, to publicly denounce apprenticeships not only insulted her friends but it also insulted a Wizarding tradition that went back to a time before written history. Orion had a feeling that the young witch did not intend to be a politician or spokesperson against the system. She had, unintentionally or no, put herself in front of the virtual Wizengamot of public scrutiny. It would either make her career or break it, and judging by his personal visceral reaction to the article, he had a feeling the young witch would be suffering a pile of owl'd letters. To top it off, his daughter and her _chevaliers_ would be hard pressed to maintain decorum in public with their friend being mobbed with positive or negative publicity. He also knew Sirius would probably start punching first and asking questions later if Lily was his friend. Orion wasn't quite sure what the relationship was between his eldest son and the red-haired witch. He knew her from his House, apparently, but the boy did not seem to have feelings for her one way or another. That was, he decided, probably for the best.

Orion placed the paper down, downing the last of his juice and inhaling the last of his toast and eggs before his hungry elder son could get his fork into it. Orion was glad his son had a clean bill of health from Mungo's, and thanks to some tutoring and catch-up work, the boy was not going to be held back a year, which was a relief.

The Auror reports that had been given to the Wizengamot over the entire situation had been strangely clean on malicious intent. Orion and a few of the other seats at the Wizengamot, including Abraxas Malfoy and Charlus Potter, had found the reports disturbingly clean. Each report seemed to be devoid of anything other than the unsuspecting spread of some candies that had been tampered with. The report had, even more oddly, said that the candies had been tampered with some time before they had been purchased, and it had only been an unfortunate coincidence that they had affected the students of Hogwarts.

Orion's voice hadn't been the only voice that spoke out for the oddness of the entire situation. The fact that the Aurors that had been sent to Hogwarts seemed overly impressed by the helpfulness of the Headmaster of Hogwarts was even more strange. Albus Dumbledore had never been prone to being helpful to the Ministry or the Aurors in the past. If anything he had always said that Hogwarts took care of itself. There was something odd going on, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Charlus and Dorea Potter had been mortified to learn that their son had been one of the ones affected by the tampered chocolates. It was through the combined effort of the Potters, Blacks, Malfoys, Crouches, Lestranges, Longbottoms, and Notts that they passed a movement to place a jinx around the borders of Hogwarts. The jinx would detect Malevolent potion-tampered foods within Hogwarts and immediately make them turn to ash the moment they passed into the grounds. The potion was still allowed to be taught in the curriculum, as learning of the potion was still considered a basic lesson, but its use in foods would trigger the jinx.

Albus had argued that such extremes were hardly necessary. Once the word got out for the children to be more careful where they got their candy, he reasoned the jinx would be redundant. The Wizengamot, however, was adamant that something had to be done or movements to question the safety of Hogwarts would be called into play. Dumbledore had reluctantly agreed, stating that such paranoia was hardly necessary. Orion had argued that it had obviously been necessary seeing as children from multiple families were being drugged up by tampered foods under Dumbledore's very nose.

Orion had spoken with Professor McGonagall and Master Barberry over the safety of his daughter and her fellow apprentices. He had been happy to note that both masters seemed very keen on protecting their charges with whatever means they had at their disposal. Part of it, they said, would be teaching them a healthy dose of paranoia, but the rest would be in skills in the detection of harmful substances, basic healing, and counter-curses and jinxes. Each apprentice wore the mark of their combined masters, and the marks were charmed as emergency port-keys that would, if touched in combination with the proper power-word, take them directly to their master's side.

Barberry said he would ensure that each of his apprentices would begin work on learning mental shielding before they returned to Hogwarts for the next term, and it wouldn't be the only skills he would instill in them throughout their apprenticeship. It was enough to put his mind at ease, as least for the welfare of his daughter. His son, of course, he could only hope would be more careful after his experience with the Malevolent potion.

As for Regulus, who would be joining his other children at Hogwarts, he could only hope that both of his elder children looked out for him. He had a feeling though, in watching how Regulus attached himself to Severus as a big brother and Hermione as he always did, that his youngest would be covered under the blanket of their protection and mutual growing paranoia. Judging by the bond between the three apprentices, he had a good feeling Regulus would be in good hands.

Orion closed his eyes, extending his senses. The sense of the oldest magic was something he had always been sensitive to. His father said it was woven into his soul as a Black. Every Black, he said, had a gift from the Magic that had founded their family. The gifts were not always grandiose or flamboyant or even terribly useful, but every child of the House of Black had some magical talent that was uniquely theirs. Sensing the fabric and weave of Magic was his. Walburga's had been able to sense where every house-elf bound to their family was. Sirius had always known what direction north. Regulus had the gift of strengthening the magic being cast around him with a shared touch. Hermione, his chick and the fire of his universe, was born a phoenix. Only seconds from her mother's womb, the babe had been wreathed in fire. Phantom wings had flapped and folded around the newly born witch, marking her fate amongst the cosmos and her place in the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

Tendrils of magic wove around the trio, overlapping with each other, weaving together, and lying in various states of binding strength. The weave of the magic was reinforced by hundreds of smaller fibres that criss-crossed over each other like strands of silk. The cords were like the glowing bindings of an unbreakable vow slithering around their bodies and each other. It was Old Magic binding his daughter to her friends. Each little touch between them sent one more silken strand to weave between them, sealing their fates as surely as the bonds of family.

Orion opened his eyes, a small smile on his lips. Whatever fate belonged to his daughter, she would not be alone in her journey. That brought him no small measure of peace.

"Time to get ready, children," Orion said, watching all of them turn to stare at him with curious eyes. "Unless you wish to miss your riding lessons?"

"YES!" Regulus whooped, running down the hall to dress.

"But I," Lily protested. "I never 've —"

Hermione had her by the sleeve and was dragging her down the hallway. "I'll let you borrow some of my clothes and boots."

Severus and Remus exchanged a look of panic.

Sirius waved at them to follow. "Come on, I'll let you find something from my wardrobe. I'm sure we can resize whatever doesn't fit."

Orion smiled to himself as he watched the boys follow Sirius to his room. He hoped the boy had at least attempted to clean it. Otherwise he'd be spending the next few days trying to find them when Sirius' piles of random stuff fell over on them.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You three look like a posse," Lily said, leaning over to pat the neck of her horse. The older mare she was riding took that moment to graze, happy indulging in the freshly dewed grass.

Severus snorted, his breath huffed a cloud of vapour. He had taken to horsemanship with a natural ease that Remus and Lily did not, naturally being able to control his seat and communicate with his horse without conscious effort. Lily's mare was the tolerance sort, ignoring her flopping legs and mixed seat signals. Every so often the horse would flick her ears back in annoyance, but did nothing short of sidestep every so often and back into a bush or tree in the sneaky desire to scrape her off.

Remus, seemingly a bit nervous due to his moon-night alter-ego, found that the horses were utterly unimpressed by the werewolf. The gelding he was riding ironically shared the colour of his wolf shape, and both Severus and Hermione chuckled at him in their shared secret. Remus ended up taking to riding very well, and within a few hours of basic instruction, he was helping Lily trying to control her bombproof mare.

Lily became proficient enough to guide the horse where she wanted to go. She managed to stop being scraped off into the bushes and trees, but she seemed to enjoy loving on the horse more than riding on it, much to the trio's amusement.

Regulus, being the bee-charmer he was, led Lily around like a pied piper. Lily didn't seem to mind, and it didn't take long before Regulus so completely enthralled Lily that she followed him willingly anywhere he led.

As Regulus and Lily went gallivanting across the countryside, Orion trotted up next to the trio. "Are you letting my son lead her around on purpose?"

Severus, Remus, and Hermione put on their best halos.

Orion laughed. "You'll show her where the salt soaks are when we return home, won't you daughter?" he asked with a smile. "Before she starts realising she has muscles she didn't know she had?"

"Of course, father," Hermione said with a grin.

Orion shook his head. "Regulus is practically a centaur," he said with amusement. "Your friend will probably regret following him. He will be leading her around until the sun drops from the sky."

Severus gave a half smile. "This is the most time she's spent on one task in months."

"Oh?" Orion asked.

"The only thing she focuses on for long periods is her Witch and Waverly products," Remus said. "From what my Housemates tell me, she and her friends obsess over them. They leave vats of things brewing in their dorm making it hard for the house-elves to clean."

Orion raised his brow and looked skyward, watching the clouds. "She may experience some," he trailed off with a sigh, "aftershocks from her interview with the _Prophet_. You should be prepared to maintain decorum in the face of it."

"What interview, father?" Hermione asked.

"You did not know?" Orion asked with a frown.

Three sets of shaking heads answered him.

Orion sighed. "Your friend was interviewed with her friends about their growing business. She may have unintentionally insulted the Apprenticeship system in her eagerness to prove their products safe."

Remus and Severus simultaneously face-palmed, and Hermione let out the sigh the other two were holding back.

"Do you think she will have time to devote to an apprenticeship and keep her business going?" Orion asked.

"She honestly doesn't speak to us much about it," Hermione said, looking to Remus and Severus for contradictions. The two shook their heads in negative. "She likes to keep parts of her life separate."

Orion tilted his head and then shook it. "I suppose we all have our coping mechanisms." Regulus cantered by with Lily squealing as her mare followed. Regulus was whooping with excitement, and Sirius was chasing after them. Orion lifted a brow. "Perhaps, I should take you six to the hot springs," he said a sigh. "You can thank me for it later after you are done grooming the horses when we get back to the barn."

"We haven't been to the hot springs in over a year, father!" exclaimed Hermione with a burble of excitement.

"Well you have been at school, my chick," Orion defended himself. "Besides you know how hard it is to drag your mother out of the house."

"But, she loves the hot springs, father," Hermione pouted.

"And she wanted me just to put a hot springs into our house and be done with it," Orion said dryly.

The trio giggled and then suddenly stopped. They eyed each other with a sly grin.

Orion recognised the sight immediately and decided to curb it on the rump before he woke up his bedroom turned into the hot springs. "I tell you what, my young apprentices. Since your masters think so highly of you. We have a room on the bottom floor that is full of miscellaneous debris. It is a large room. Once all the old things were moved out, it could serve as an interesting place to transfigure into something more useful."

The trio perked up immediately.

"Could we, father?" Hermione asked, making sure her father wasn't yanking her chain to get her hopes up.

"Oh, I don't know," Orion said speculatively. "Maybe if you can beat me back to the tree!" He adjusted his seat, and his horse flew out from under him, carrying the wizard away in a flash.

Hermione whooped, adjusting her leg on her horse, and her horse took off after. She hugged her horse's back like a burr, keeping herself as flat as possible.

Remus and Severus exchanged glances, and Severus threw all caution to the wind, released the rein on his horse, and set his hip bones down on his seat.

Severus was off, leaving a Remus clinging to his horse as the horse decided he wasn't going to be left behind for no one!

Orion was laughing as he pulled his horse up, and Hermione was leaning up against the tree. Her horse was leaning against it as well as if to echo her feelings. Severus was trotting back to the oak after having overshot it by a few metres, and Remus pulled up last, panting as though he were the one that just ran the distance.

"You win, my chick," Orion laughed with enthusiasm. "The ground floor storeroom is yours to transform as you will."

Hermione looked up from where she was pretending to file her nails like Narcissa. She pointed her nail file at Orion. "You were holding back, father," she accused. "I have never once beaten you in a race."

"Me?" Orion replied, adjusting his halo. "Are you complaining?"

Hermione trotted over to parallel her father. She leaned over her saddle and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "No, father. I am not." She grinned at him.

Orion leaned over and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Back to the barns with you lot," he commanded with a snicker. "Brush them down well, pick their feet, and be sure they have fresh water in their buckets."

Hermione grinned, clucking her tongue. Her horse was off at a brisk trot as she moved her body in time with her horse's movements. Severus was right behind her, and Remus muttered something about "not again."

Orion squeezed his leg again his horse, giving him a soft pat on the neck. "Come on, old man. Let's show the young folk that we aren't so old as they think." He slid his leg back to signal a canter, moved his posture down across his horse's neck, and engaged his seat.

As Orion and his horse went shooting by his daughter and her friends, as well as a startled Regulus, Sirius, and Lily, he couldn't help but laugh for the sheer joy of living.

Seems he wasn't so old after all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Sunday, July 16th, Nineteen hundred and Seventy-two_

Dear Miss Evans,

I find myself at a bit of a conflict since last we spoke. It has been a long time since one such as you and your friends have wished to offer such a wonderful new line of products to the community, and I do find them absolutely enticing. I would like nothing more than to provide a place for them in our store in Hogsmeade, however; I feel I cannot do this at this time.

Many of our customers are ardent supporters of the apprenticeship system. We here at the store have fostered multiple apprentices throughout the hundreds of years our business has been settled here in Hogsmeade. Your interview with the _Daily Prophet_ has cast a very unfavourable light upon your opinion of those who have made a lifetime of fostering young people such as yourself into the specialised occupations in the Wizarding community. We, at Gladrags Wizardwear, have always been ones to support the youth of our community. It was our intent to do so for your budding business, but we cannot stand by and support someone whose disregard for such an ancient and important part of our traditions. Too many of our clients come from families with whom such traditions are all too important. Had we known that this was your true opinion on our traditions, we could have saved ourselves much embarrassment in having to renege on our agreement to host your products at our store.

You have our sincere apologies. Perhaps, if the negative publicity becomes less heated, we may be able to renegotiate once more. Unfortunately, at this time, we can do nothing but refuse.

Sincerely,

Master Tailor Aileana Ballantyne (her seal, the needle and the sock)

-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Lily Evans,

I can't wait to try out your products mentioned in Witch Weekly. When I'm old enough to go to Hogwarts, I'm going to be just like you!

Love,

Rose Winters

-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Miss Evans,

I find your blatant disregard for our traditions to be a horrifying example of why Muggle-born students are a stain on our society. How can anyone with a modicum of respect speak so poorly of one of the foundations of the Wizarding World? You call yourself a witch? How can anyone such as you claim to care about the safety of your customers when you cannot even respect where they came from?

Perhaps, if you had a proper Master, you would realise the great honour they bestow upon us in taking us under wing. Masters take us on at a young age and give us guidance and direction during a time of our lives when much is uncertain. Perhaps, if they would even have you, because I, assuredly, would not.

With the greatest disdain,

Master Metalsmith Singeberry Kettleforge

-o-o-o-o-o-

Regulus poked his head into the guest room and frowned as he saw that one of his sister's friends was sobbing into a pillow. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, he sneaked into the room and sat down on the side of the mattress.

"Erm… want to talk about it?"

Sobs and sniffles answered him.

Regulus tugged at his collar and tried to remember all the things his sister said to him when he was sobbing into his pillow and came up empty. He hadn't exactly been paying attention when he was crying his eyes out. All he cared about at the time was his sister's arms comforting him.

Lily pushed out a piece of parchment towards him.

Regulus picked it up hesitantly, unwrinkled it, and read it.

"Oh," he said after a while. "Master Kettleforge tends to have the demeanour of an angry bull shark, but I did read that article in the _Prophet_. I know why he's all pissed."

Lily looked up from the pillow with red eyes. "I didn't say anything against the bloody apprenticeship system. Hell, three of my friends are apprentices." Her voice was angry and indignant.

Regulus frowned. "You basically said you didn't need to be apprenticed to succeed," he said softly. "Don't get me wrong. You don't have to be apprenticed to succeed. No one doubts that, but you singled out apprenticeship, which is like saying 'we don't need Aurors to find Dark wizards and witches.'"

Lily frowned at him.

"Look," Regulus said with a sigh. "You have to treat interviews like a social encounter in public. Me? I can't go anywhere without knowing who I'm greeting. I have to because if I forget things could get bad. I could be forgetting to add 'my Lord' to one of the Wizengamot founding families, and I wouldn't stop hearing about it for months. Years even."

Regulus scratched his ruffled black hair. "Once, when I was little, I got lost in a sea of legs when father took me to the Wizengamot because Mother was away visiting family in France. They all wear the same robes, you see? I grabbed a hold of what I thought was my father's leg. Someone picked me up, and I screamed because it wasn't my father and socked the head of the House of Nott right in the face."

Lily stared at him with wide eyes.

"That wasn't my shiniest moment," Regulus confessed. "To this day, Lord Nott calls me 'young Lord Black-eye,' and I can't get him to call me anything else. And Mother? Oh, boy. I was drilled on the who is who of the Wizengamot for years after that. I could recite the sacred twenty-eight in my sleep before I knew the rest of the alphabet, and I could probably point out a Carrow from across a courtyard. Malfoys are too easy, but not as easy as a Weasley."

Lily sniffed, but it seemed like she was recovering herself. "Why is there all this focus on niceties and proper behaviour? It's not like there is royalty around."

Regulus tilted his head. "Maybe that's why you're having a bad time of it? We don't strike you as being royal?"

"I don't understand why Slytherin students will come up to Hermione and treat her so differently, and she treats Malfoy like he's a bloody prince," Lily said with a scowl.

"Oh, well," Regulus cleared his throat. "The Malfoy family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Their pure-blood lineage traces back to the very first couple that was blessed by the Magic that founded their line."

Lily just stared at him.

Regulus pulled his feet up from the floor and crossed his legs on the mattress. "Okay, I'm not sure why they haven't taught you this stuff, since it's kinda important, but," he sighed and looked upward for guidance. "Pure-bloods trace their lineage back to a couple that were literally blessed with Magic back from the time before Merlin. It's not that they trace back to him, but a lot of people think the further you go back the better, but that's hogwash. It's that Magic founded their family. That is what is important. A witch and a wizard found each other, entered formal courtship and kissed. Kissing is kind of a big deal. There are four kinds, ok well that's kind of a misnomer. There are four kinds that matter in courtship: meeting of the minds, friendship, equality, and love. There is also the formal kiss to the hand that females get which implies fealty or loyalty, but now-a-days it's more of an acknowledgement of respect.

Regulus scratched his head. "This is kind of awkward. I mean," he sighed. "This is something your mother pulls you to the side and teaches you when you're, erm, eight."

Lily fidgeted. "I," she said. "Please continue."

Regulus let out his breath slowly. "Okay, way back when, one of my ancestors went into formal courtship. That is courtship started by the four sacred kisses, oh, please don't blush, you're making me really uncomfortable," Regulus protested.

Lily wrung her hands. "I'm sorry, please, go on."

"But, when that wizard kissed his witch the fourth time for love, Magic blessed them," Regulus explained.

Lily gave him a blank stare.

"Erm," Regulus scratched his head. "Magic bound them together as the heads of a magical family. It's Old Magic. It's as pure as you get. That's why the families are called pure-bloods. Their magic was pure, so Magic blessed their house and bound them together. Literally. The magic involved is undeniable. Now-a-days, though, you don't need that bond to get married, but if you do get it, it's like marriage the moment it happens. You also do not necessarily get the full Magic blessing even if you are bound in courtship. It's, erm, complicated," he said, scratching his head.

"No one from any of the pure-blood families will deny a Magic-bound courtship. Well, no one who is sane, anyway. There have been notable moments in history where some idiot tried because they were in love with a witch and tried to kill the wizard, and drama, and angst, and arrest, and the Wizengamot."

"How do you," Lily began. "How do you even know that entire magical bonding thing is real? It could just be a story. You said that you didn't need the bond to get married."

Regulus smiled. "My parents were bound. My mother and my father were both of the House of Black. Oh, don't look at me like that."

Lily cast her gaze to her lap. "Sorry."

"Mother and father were second cousins. They had no interest in each other at all," Regulus said. "But one day, at a Christmas party, they were caught under a magical mistletoe. You know, the ones that charm you so you can't leave until you've kissed? They stood there for hours asking someone to find the idiot that did the charm so they could get out of it, but no one fessed up to it. Finally, mother really had to use the loo, so they just kissed to get it over with. Well, let's just say the marriage contracts both of them had outside of the family were nullified after that night. Magic bound them so tight I think even Muggles could see them glowing for the next month. Uncle Cygnus said they glowed this emerald green colour for weeks."

"I thought you said they needed four kisses," Lily said, confused.

Regulus shook his head. "Normally, yes, well that is formal courtship. Mum and dad sort of skipped right over courtship and went directly to marriage."

Lily looked horrified. "They had no choice?"

Regulus looked at Lily like she'd grown a second head. "You'd argue with Old Magic? Mum and dad love each other if that's what you mean, but, I mean, you don't argue with Old Magic, Lily. It would be like Merlin walking into a room and saying 'hey can you do me a favour?' and you saying 'naw, I have plans today.'"

"But, a person should have a choice who they marry," Lily protested. "You don't just go marrying the first person you kiss."

Regulus scratched his head. "See, that's where I think where we're missing each other," he said. "Old Magic blessing your union is a good thing. It's rare as hell, and it's like the grail of magical bonds, Lily. It's like the entire love-at-first-sight thing you read about in books, only it's more like love-at-first-kiss. If you ask any witch who grew up in the Wizarding world, they were teethed on stories of the magical bond. They dream of Princes coming down and bestowing the kiss of courtship and having it be pure. Hell, when I grow up, I want to have that. I want to know that the person I am with was meant for me. I just hope it's not my cousin Narcissa because she's a bit old for me, and that would be awkward."

Lily blinked at him.

Regulus slapped his palm to his forehead and let it slide down his face. "Look, what I'm trying to say is, the reason for a lot of the traditions is magic. Bonds of Magic. Without them, we might not have had a Wizarding World. All this tradition? All of the hand kissing, bowing, and social prostrating? That is all a matter of respect, and it has less to do with respect of the person and everything to do with magic. Everything comes back to magic, somehow." Regulus ruffled his own hair. "Hermione knows better than anyone the dynamic of social balances that she must uphold as a member of this family. As an Apprentice, she is doubly in the spotlight. She must be proper in public lest someone take a candid shot and have her plastered in some very embarrassing tag line in the _Prophet_. This means she must curtsy to her superiors, extend her hand to the pure-bloods, masters, and superiors, and also watch what she says at all times."

"This—sitting here and talking to you like a normal person—is a gift. The fact that she can sit with you at Hogwarts and be herself where she isn't putting on that proper face? That is a great gift to her. It's why we value our friendships so highly. They are the only ones who get to see our true faces. Every friendship has a price. In being her friend, you must realise that she has duties she must perform. She has a face she must present, and it has nothing to do with her love for her friends."

"Sirius told me that it was a bunch of pure-blood rubbish," Lily said. "He said I didn't have to do any of that with him."

Regulus' face because serious, his normal boyish charm turned into something stoic and indifferent. "My brother has tried to rebel from his roots for as long as I can remember, and he unthinkingly insults in his haste to distance himself from the Old Ways. He thinks himself better because he acts out, but all he does it bring more attention to the rest of us that do not. It is because of him that my sister must take up the reins and be as proper as she is. If my brother tells you that you can ignore all propriety with him, then that is between the two of you, and that is yours to hash out. Do not take that as an invitation to think the rest of us can be so lax."

Lily hugged the pillow and stared at Regulus, perhaps trying to integrate the happy and joyful younger brother of Hermione Black to this serious looking Regulus.

"How do I make this right, Regulus?" Lily whispered.

Regulus stood up from the bed, swirling his shoulders in a stretch. An impish grin started to spread across his face as the boyish younger brother peaked out from his more mature, serious face. "Find someone other than my brother to teach you manners," Regulus said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

And with that, Regulus swept the room, leaving Lily alone in the room and wondering what had just happened.

Lily heard a loud series of tromping footsteps.

"Big sis!" she heard Regulus yell.

There was a thumping sound.

"Oof! Regulus! Where have you been?" Hermione's voice chuckled. "We've started to transfigure rocks for the hot springs. Do you want to help us plan the layout?"

"Does Denebola like stealing mum's chair?" Regulus answered.

A loud meow sounded in protest.

"Come on then, miscreant," Hermione laughed. "And you too, four-legged miscreant."

A loud meow sounded off again.

"Hey, Regulus, where's Lily?" Lily heard Sirius ask.

"She was taking a nap," Regulus answered. "Don't go bugging her unless she comes down herself, big brother."

"Psh," Sirius replied. "Girls. Such odd sleeping patterns."

"I heard that, Sirius Black!" Hermione's voice said.

There were the sounds of choking.

"Ahh! Let me go! Help! Abuse!" Sirius yelled.

Hermione shushed him. "Come on, let's get out of the hallway. If Lily is trying to sleep, we are horrible hosts."

As quiet descended upon the hallway, Lily Evans realised she had a lot to learn about the Ancient and Noble House of Black and the social dynamics that drove the pure-blood society.

She had already snubbed Severus every time he had offered to teach her basic manners around the pure-bloods. She had basically shoved his offers back at him and told him to stuff it, so she doubted asking him now would go well. Hermione, too, she had chewed out when she had offered to teach her, and she had told Remus to mind his damn business.

Great job, Lily, she scolded herself. Piss off the ones who were just trying to prevent exactly what just happened to you. Idiot.

Lily buried her head into the pillow she was holding and let out a ragged breath. First things first. She needed a teacher that didn't have every right to hex her for her hypocrisy, or at least someone who wouldn't hex her even if she deserved it.

Where to even start?

-o-o-o-o-o-

Orion Black lowered his newspaper as Lily Evans crept into the drawing room and went down into a full curtsy, lowering her head down to her knees to stare at his feet. His eyebrows shot into his hair immediately.

"May I," he started to say, "assist you, Miss Evans?" He expected her to be in the store room with the others.

Lily stared at his shoes. "Please, sir," she said softly. "If it pleases you, could you teach me how not to insult you?"

Orion very slowly placed his paper down on the side table, scraping his jaw off the floor in the most dignified manner possible. "Have a seat, Miss Evans," he said, gesturing with his hand to the nearby chair. "Tell me what is troubling you."

The red-haired witch sat in the chair with a little trepidation. "I'm not sure where to begin," the confessed.

Orion tilted his head. "Kreacher."

Pop.

"Yes, Master?" the house-elf said.

"Please fetch myself and my guest some tea," Orion said.

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said. "Kreacher is honoured to serve." The house-elf disappeared with a pop.

Orion turned his gaze back to Lily, who shrunk slightly under the power of his regard. "Start from the beginning, Miss Evans," he said softly.

Lily swallowed hard and gathered her courage.

As it turned out, it took her about as long as it took Kreacher to return with the tea for Lily to stop stammering.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dear Cousin Hermione,

Hermione, have you heard?

My dear sister, Andromeda, has gone and done something awful. She found a job this last year working at a quaint little seamstress shop in London. She was really doing well with magical mending. She was spending so many hours there, we were starting to worry about her, so mother went to visit her in town and bring her some of her favourite pies to help keep her strength up.

When mother stepped into the shop she saw my sister with a wizard! It wasn't just any wizard either. They were being entirely inappropriate right there in the store where people could see them. Touching, petting, laughing… mother was absolutely mortified. None of us even knew she was interested in courtship, so to see her carrying on like some love-struck Muggle… Oh, Hermione, it was awful! Mother came home crying, wringing her hands, wailing that her daughter would be seen as some scarlet woman.

When Andromeda came home, everything went to pieces. Andromeda said she was in love and this Ted Tonks was the man she was going to marry. She just put it right out there in front of mother and father and in front of me! Bellatrix was home visiting too, and she went completely crazy. Mother was screaming that Andromeda hadn't even been in a courtship. Father was yelling that she wasn't going to marry any man that didn't have the common decency to ask him for permission to marry his daughter. Bellatrix started throwing curses, hexes, and all manner of things at her. They were dueling in the middle of the dining room!

When the smoke cleared, Andromeda was gone. Bellatrix had this crazy look about her, Hermione. She's always been a little off, but she looked murderous.

Mother was sobbing in the corner. Father started throwing things around the house and ripping pictures down from the walls. Mother was crying that she was going to have to make sure they found me a good match so nothing like this ever happened to our family again.

I got an owl from Andromeda the other week. She's been married. She said she was tired of waiting for Magic to decide who she was to love. She was in love, and she married him. She said she didn't need the kiss to know he was the right one for her. She said Ted is Muggle-born and brilliant. He makes her laugh, he doesn't have a clue about pure-blood customs, and she wants to grow old with him. She said if the rest of our family couldn't understand that, then she didn't care. It was her life.

Hermione, I'm so scared for her. She's turning her back on our entire family! She won't even come back and show father and mother that they have a true marriage bond. She says they are married, and she shouldn't have to show her parents some sort of magical bond to prove they are meant for each other. It's all she would have had to do, Hermione. Just that one thing, and my parents would have accepted it. Magic would have proven her case. It would have proven that they had a pure bond. She won't even do that.

I'm so scared, Hermione. What if I fall in love when I'm at Hogwarts? What if they don't know about formal courtship? It's not like we can teach a wizard how to do it. That's something the father teaches the son! I would be so mortified if I had to explain it!

Father disowned my sister last night. Apparently, he flooed over to see your father, got completely knackered, and burned her right off the family tree. Your father flooed in very late, and deposited my father in the armchair by the fire. Mother came in as he was leaving. He said there would come a time when they may come to regret what had happened that night, and he could only hope they treated their remaining daughter with more care.

Mother said she had never seen Orion so sombre.

We received an owl the next day. The charred remains of father's wand was in a box. He had apparently, in his drunken rage, broke his own wand and thrown it into the fireplace. Orion had saved what he could, but it was already too late. Mother is going to have to side-apparate him to Diagon Alley and suffer through the embarrassment of standing by as her husband has to pick out a replacement wand. He's had that wand since he was eleven.

I can't wait to see you again when term starts again. There is so much I want to talk to you about, and I don't feel like I have anyone else who would understand. I hope whatever luck was with you last year holds up, and you are still with that glorious room all to yourself.

Sincerely,

Narcissa Black (her seal, the daffodil)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N: **For those of you rooting for Regulus or Orion to give Lily a push in the right direction. Ta-dah! You had both! Zing!

Could you feel the awkwardness of poor 11-year-old Regulus trying to explain kissing to a girl? Poor Regulus. At least Severus didn't have to do it. I think Severus would have just crawled under a rock and died right there on the spot. I wonder... as Severus' surrogate pure-blood father role, would Orion have to pull the boy aside and teach him the birds and the hippogriffs? Aw, man. Awkward.


	27. Back to School Fall 1972

Beta love to: **fluffpanda**

* * *

**Chapter 27: Back to School - Year Two 1972**

**Hogwarts Potioneers Dominate Board of Potion Mastery's Quinquennial Potions Contest**

The Board of Potion Mastery has released the winners of their Quinquennial Potions Contest this week, and the results are nothing but awe-inspiring. Potioneers from across Britain have long looked forward to the Board's contest. Every five years, the contest draws in the brightest and most talented prospective potioneers from across England, Ireland, Wales, and Scotland.

The Board judged hundreds of prospective potions this time around, and the judges have made it clear that there were an overwhelmingly large number of impressive projects entered into the competition.

What were the conditions of the contest this time?

Each entry had to be a formula that was truly unique. Nothing could be a revision of a potion that had already been created, preventing more experienced potioneers from revising their older formulae for the contest.

What makes this year's contest so gratifying to the Board, however, was the influx of new ideas from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Four teams from Hogwarts competed with experienced potioneers, and they proved their mettle and originality against both current Apprentices, independent brewers, and proven Masters of the craft.

But the key to the contest was not just about skill. This year, the goal was innovation.

The first of four teams from Hogwarts consisted of Reid Jameson and Bret Crutchfield, who succeeded in creating an antidote to the Babbling Beverage. This fine potion promises that the embarrassing public speaking events will be a thing of the past, at least, embarrassing events due to the Babbling Beverage. I am sure Wizarding conventions everywhere is happy for this development.

The second team consisted of Athmore Farrant and Audrey Maine. The pair presented a cure for a wide range of boils. I am happy to report their cure was so effective that they have already put this cure into production for St. Mungo's. Not only that, they have also been snapped up as Healer Apprentices before they have even left Hogwarts.

The third team from Hogwarts held Melynda Rutter and Elwood Willocks. They have produced a fast developing potion for photography that not only cuts down the developing time to a matter of seconds but also produces perfect colour representations and movement. We here at the Daily Prophet are chomping at the bit to get our hands upon this potion once it is released to public production, my friends, and we are not alone.

The fourth and final team from Hogwarts had four members. Usually, this would be a large team, but after their big reveal, many people were left wondering how there had not been more. The complexity of their potion project has been praised by many of the masters on the Board as being a stunning example of shared teamwork.

Severus Snape, Hermione Black, Remus Lupin, and Lily Evans submitted their project to the Board as "the Wolfsbane Potion," but do not let its humble name fool you. This potion, not only tested and confirmed to be safe but also effective, pacifies the werewolf during their forced transformations three nights out of the month. This potion renders them much more like the natural state of a wild wolf than the rampaging monsters that seek out humans to attack.

After multiple confirmed tests, this potion is taking the Board's contest by storm. Reports from werewolves who had feared for their family members and friends, Auror teams, and witnessed trails of the potion from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures have been rolling in praising its effects.

"I've been forced to lock myself up in a basement in a cage for the last twenty-five years," a haunted werewolf commented after walking out of the full moon trials. "I never, until now, had hope like this."

"Ten years," another anonymous werewolf commented. "I've spent the last ten years waking up with horrible bites and scratches all over myself as the werewolf rises and takes out its frustration on me. I transformed in a contained area in full view of my family for the first time…" The werewolf was crying as he spoke to us. "I wagged my tail at my family and I watched my baby daughter play with my wife for the first time in ten long and horrible years. My wife was crying when she met me in the morning. I was crying too. My daughter… she said I was beautiful. I can't tell you what this means— to me and to everyone who has lived with this affliction and worried for the safety of their loved ones. This is a miracle."

These testimonies are not few in number, Even so, there has been some resistance by Dolores Umbridge of the Improper Use of Magic Office. She stated that "half-breeds" such as werewolves should just be rounded up and sequestered on a reservation outside of England. She said this would "remove the threat of werewolves with no need for some silly potion concocted by student dreamers."

Ms. Umbridge's views are thankfully not commonplace. In light of her idea last year to round up merpeople to tag them in order to keep them under surveillance and control their numbers, most people believe that her views are a bit too harsh for civilised society.

The Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures, too, voiced their opinion that anything that grants relief to the victims of lycanthropy is a good thing.

"It brings the dream of those afflicted being able to live a normal life in reality," Osmund Davis said as he walked out of one of the Department meetings. "This discovery is something vital to our community. It needs to be praised and encouraged."

"Lycanthropy," Master Merryweather stated, "is an affliction that steals three nights a month from the victims. For the first time, those victims have a chance to be safe around their fellow humans."

It wasn't a surprise when the quartet of potioneers won the overall contest with their Wolfsbane Potion. Even those who had competed for the win gave the quartet a standing ovation during the awards ceremony.

When asked what the quartet would do with their winnings, Lily Evans stated she would invest her share of the money into the independent hair care business (The Witch and Waverly) she and her friends are building together. Their business has met with some setbacks in recent months, but Miss Evans and her friends are confident that they will be able to face their obstacles and make Witch and Waverly products a success.

Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Hermione Black are investing with their Masters in opening an Apothecary. I believe I am not the only one that wishes them well in their future endeavours.

The Board of Potion Mastery wishes to extend their thanks for all who have participated. While only one team could come in first, they said that this year has been the first year where everyone came out a winner. There have been a record amount of Apprenticeships due to the competition as well as a record number of formulae released for production. Everyone is to be congratulated on a job well done.

The complete list of placing winners and their new potions can be found on page 3. We here at the Daily Prophet wish you the best, winners! Those who wish to contact the winners in regards to their potions are encouraged to owl ℅ the Board of Potion Mastery.

* * *

**Fenrir Greyback attacks Muggle Daycare in Hathersage**

Sixteen Muggles are confirmed dead after a horrendous attack during the most recent full moon. The Muggle summer camp, which was located just outside the town of Hathersage, came under attack by the infamous werewolf known as Fenrir Greyback. The camp had been hosting over a hundred children from nearby villages and had just concluded the final week of activities. According to the records, they were only a day away from going home for the season.

While there were no survivors to witness his attack, his crude signature was painted in the blood of his victims. Fenrir, known for his habit of positioning himself in a place during full moons in order to better infect new victims after his change, apparently lost control during his raid on the village's youth. He left no one standing to tell the tale. Unlike in previous encounters where he would surface afterwards and crow that more wolves would now join his growing community, Fenrir did not make himself known after the attack.

The clawed doors, strewn victims, and tell-tale maulings, however, remain a testament to the brutality of the uncontrolled werewolf. It is no wonder as to why the most recent development of the Wolfsbane Potion has brought relief to hundreds of Fenrir's known past victims. Many of these victims have been coming to the Board of Potions Mastery in the hopes of gaining early access to the potion before its public release.

Madam Dolores Umbridge spoke at the latest community outreach. She stood up against what she calls "the new onslaught of dangerous werewolves who would rather endanger our children than be sent to a place where they could live apart from those they could hurt." Her arguments gained some measure of agreement amongst the gathered, but, by far, more people stood up for the victims of lycanthropy.

Disturbingly, Dolores Umbridge has disappeared after her latest show in the community, and there has been a talk of an Auror team being sent out in search for her. She has not shown up at work for the past three days. Strangely enough, her co-workers had not reported her missing, stating, "she hasn't taken a vacation in forever. We figured she finally found a place she wanted to visit for once."

Concerned parties highly encourage those who may have seen Madam Umbridge while out on holiday to please let the Auror's Office know, as all attempts to reach her by owl have failed.

* * *

**Madam Dolores Umbridge Found Wandering the Woods near Castleton**

It was with great relief that Madam Dolores Umbridge was found by Aurors thanks to the help of the Muggle authorities near the town of Castleton.

Madam Umbridge was rushed to St. Mungo's for treatment of her multiple scratches and wounds sustained during her unfortunate tangle in the woods. The authorities said her dazed and confused ramblings upon being found seem to point to some mental trauma. Healers have denied details on her wounds, short of what we know from the Auror reports, but we have been told that Umbridge should make a full recovery within the week.

Incidentally, she was recovered near Castleton, which is a few kilometres west of the village of Hathersage. Hathersage is where the Muggles were attacked around the same time, and it is being considered very lucky indeed that Madam Umbridge did not run into Fenrir Greyback while he was roaming Hathersage. Ironically, had the Muggle authorities not been riled up from the nearby attack of Hathersage, they would not have found the wounded and delirious Umbridge wandering the woods.

The flawless teamwork of the Muggle authorities and our Aurors was praised in the return of Ms. Umbridge, and we here at the Prophet salute them for their tireless efforts.

For more information about Madam Umbridge's latest work before her disappearance, turn to page 4.

For a transcript of Madam Umbridge's protest against werewolves, turn to page 7.

For information on Madam Umbridge's movement to tag merpeople for monitoring, turn to page 9.

* * *

_Saturday, July 29th, 1972, Moon Waning Gibbous 89%_

"Hey, will you look at this," Remus said as he threw the paper down on the picnic blanket.

"Hn?" Severus grunted, opening one eye. The sun was filtering down through the garden ivy, and it seemed he was enjoying it greatly.

Regulus fished a sandwich out of the picnic basket and munched on it, pulling the paper towards him with curiosity. "There are like five articles about this Dolores Umbridge person," he said thoughtfully. "Wasn't she the one they had to escort out of the Board of Potion Mastery's Award Dinner?

"The same," Remus said. "She was trying to accuse us of breaking the laws against the improper use of magic."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"She tried to accuse us of unauthorised use of underage magic," Remus said.

"Which was bullocks," Severus said.

"And then tried to accuse Master Barberry and Master McGonagall for harbouring magical deviants," Remus continued.

Regulus blinked, biting into his sandwich slowly. "That must have gone over well with mother and father."

Hermione snorted. "Understatement."

Regulus made a face, "How DARE you insinuate that any member of the Ancient and Noble House of Black is a magical 'deviant'!"

"Straight from mother's mouth, brother," Hermione chuckled.

Remus shook his head. "This Madam Umbridge did this in public? In front of the entire Board?"

"Indeed," Severus said, closing his eyes as the breeze picked up.

"As horrible as it probably was for people to watch, I kind of wish I had been there to see it," Regulus admitted.

"Oh, I think quite a few people enjoyed it," Hermione said. "Masters Barberry and McGonagall looked pleased."

Regulus, not quite full of enough social gossip, pressed on. "Still, it's nice to hear that mother's talent for making you feel like something akin to sewage was trained on someone other than our brother," he admitted.

Hermione peered at Regulus and nodded with a sigh. "True." She frowned as if realising something. "Where is our brother?"

"Turning into a prune in the hot springs," Regulus said with a grin. "He and mother are having a rare bonding moment."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Merlin."

Regulus nodded. "It's the truth, I swear it!"

Hermione let out her breath slowly. "I… wow."

Regulus frowned at the paper. "That's odd," he said, trailing off.

Remus, Severus, and Hermione turned their eyes to him.

Regulus waved his hand at the paper. "This Dolores person, she disappeared on the 25th through the 27th. She wasn't found until Friday. She was "missing" the entire full moon. Did she try to break into Master Barberry's place while you were there studying?"

The trio shook their heads. "No, this last week at Master Barberry's place was uneventful," Severus said.

"Except for that Skeeter witch showing up outside his estate," Remus said.

"Oh?" Regulus asked, curious.

Hermione shorted. "She thought she could sneak onto Master Barberry's property and get a story for the Prophet, and she ran face first into his protective wards."

"What did they do to her?" Regulus asked with some excitement.

Severus snorted. "Let's just say that every hair on her body sticks out straight like lightning hit it."

Regulus half-choked on his sandwich. "Wicked."

"You're horrible, brother," Hermione laughed, throwing a leaf at him.

Regulus grinned, tackled Remus, and the pair went tumbling off into the hedges in laughter.

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Well, bonding between those two seem to be going well."

"Regulus adores having so many big brothers to dote on him," Hermione said with a grin. She laid her head back on Severus' stomach as she looked up towards the blue sky. "By the time we return to Hogwarts, people are going to think Remus is a mutant child of the Black family that managed to escape the hereditary black hair and grey eyes.

Severus snorted. "Wonderful."

"At least you already have the hair, Severus," Hermione chuckled.

"Hn," he replied, shaking his head.

"I could charm your eyes to look grey," Hermione chuckled.

Severus used his book to cover Hermione's face.

Hermione sputtered, moving the book from her face to stick her tongue out at Severus.

"Mature," he said.

"I'm thirteen," Hermione argued.

Severus licked his teeth. "Obviously."

Hermione proceeded to tickle her friend mercilessly, but Severus managed to get the upper hand, pinned her in place, and tickled her mercilessly.

Finally, when they were both gasping for air, they both flopped together on top of the garden path.

Hermione brushed her hair out of the way of her face. "It's nice to be able to relax at home. It's the one good thing about all the charms and wards here at the house. No one can see us, spy on us, or see me being totally improper laying on my back on the garden path."

"I don't think I ever felt relaxed at home," Severus said with a sniff. "Even when father was passed out, the tension never left."

"Was he always like that?" Hermione asked.

"If he wasn't, I do not recall," Severus answered with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Hermione said softly.

Severus shook his head. "It's not your fault my father isn't worth the air he breathes. I do wonder sometimes what drew my mother to him. I mean," Severus trailed off, turning his head to look away from her, "There had to be something, right?"

Hermione placed her hand on his, squeezing gently. "You're a good person, Severus," she said softly. "Don't let your father be what you see yourself as. He doesn't deserve that sort of power over you."

The black-haired wizard blew some of his hair out from his face and said nothing, but his fingers pressed on the inside of her wrist, seeking the comfort of her touch in silent communion.

"You looking forward to Defence class this next term?" Hermione asked.

"The gargoyles sound interesting. I'm wondering if we're going to have to learn about some of them hands on, though," he commented.

"How so?" she asked.

"Cornish Pixies sound like a real pain in the rear," Severus said.

Hermione snorted. You have no idea, she thought to herself. Poor Neville. "One on one might not be so bad. Groups, however," she trailed off.

Severus shuddered. "Tiny, blue tricksters that can fly. No thank you."

"So you'd prefer what?" Hermione asked.

"Learning curses and jinxes," Severus answered.

Hermione snorted. "Remind me to learn all the counter-curses and counter-jinxes first."

"Oh?"

"Yes, because you know that I'm going to end up being your test victim as always," Hermione huffed.

Severus chuckled. "You know I wouldn't hurt you on purpose. I wouldn't mean it."

Hermione looked into his black eyes and realised that Severus did mean what he said. She trusted him, and it was such a surreal feeling trusting Severus Snape and knowing what he was like growing up with him as her teacher.

"_Snape knew more curses when he arrived at Hogwarts than half the kids in seventh year," the older Sirius Black had once said._

Hermione wondered how true those words had been. Had the original Severus come to Hogwarts already knowing more hexes and curses than a seventh year? Or had Sirius' biased point of view only painted Severus as a boy who cloaked himself in the Dark Arts long before he became a Death Eater? Would a boy who truly lived and breathed the Dark Arts have been caught so off-guard by rampaging Marauders?

Looking upon her life now, with both loving parents and loving siblings, she had to wonder what had caused the rift between Sirius Black and the House of Black. She also wondered just how much her very being inserted into the House of Black had set different events into motion. Walburga, while not an emotionally giving sort of mother, was not the same woman whose portrait screamed, "Freaks! Scum of the Earth! Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!" In fact, Walburga seemed perfectly content with Severus and Remus being in the house, and even more brain breaking, she didn't even mind Lily visiting. Well, to be fair, her mother tolerated Lily more than she liked her. Hermione had the feeling it had more to do with the lack of respect Lily gave her than hatred on her mother's part.

To Hermione, at least, the only thing that managed to push all of her mother's various buttons was Sirius. Sirius could rile up Walburga having a discussion about cauliflower, whether yellow or purple crocuses were superior or if the rain in Spain fell mainly on the plains. Perhaps that was his true talent. Always being able to tell which direction was north was just a party trick.

"You believe me, don't you?" Severus asked, his eyes flickered with emotion. She could feel his worry swirling around his mind.

Hermione smiled at him. "Of course I believe you, Severus," she answered, and she meant it. As she looked into his black eyes, she felt his relief and the strong need for his friend's approval, and it broke her heart to see it. The older Snape would have gone to his grave before admitting he wanted anyone's approval. Well, she supposed. He did, actually. Yet, here was the younger Severus wanting nothing more than his friend's reassurance that they believed him.

Hermione lay her head on his chest and listened to his heart beat, closing her eyes as the breeze in the garden smelled like the encroaching autumn. It was perfectly peaceful.

That is, until Regulus and Remus pounced on them both with a crash.

It was probably a good thing that they were all wandless, and Severus hadn't figured out wandless magic at twelve. By the sound of the verbal curses he was flinging towards Remus a few seconds after the pounce, Severus was succeeding in good old fashioned Muggle profanity. Judging by the sound of it, he was doing a great job of improvising his colourful and creative vernacular.

In hindsight, Hermione would realise that Severus did have quite an astounding command of curses at the age of twelve. Maybe Sirius had been right after all.

* * *

_Wednesday, August 16th, Moon First Quarter 45%_

There was some doubt as to whether Regulus was actually the candy fairy, but the consensus was that while he wasn't the personification of said fairy, he was a pretty good substitute. Regulus Black was sitting next to the obscenely large pile of candy that would have put anything Harry and Ron would have come up with to shame. Regulus' new Kneazle kitten was curled up on the mountain of candy snoozing away like it was her job. Perhaps it was. It appeared that the kitten was doing quite well at it.

The kitten gained her name, Treacle, thanks her biting Regulus' hand when he reached to grab the treacle tart that had been near her. Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the indignant expression on Regulus' face. He looked like he was contemplating throwing the kitten out the train window. Hermione knew he never would, but his expression was murderous. Never stand between Regulus and his treacle tarts. Hermione was pretty sure that was written in the Black Family Rulebook Volume 3, Page 12, paragraph 18. The entry would right next to "all the black liquorice belongs to Sirius." Hermione chuckled to herself. She wouldn't be surprised of that entry would have ink lines on it to protest that rule.

Sirius. Hermione. Sirius. Hermione. Regulus. Your father.

Orion Black always won.

Hermione Granger was inside Hermione Black's head screaming bloody murder about cavities, tooth decay, plaque, flossing, and one hundred other things involving dental health. Hermione Black told Granger to shut the hell up—in the nicest way possible. The argument inside her head came to a close when Severus and Remus piled in next to her. The trio fell into a half-delirious snuggle-pile as the rocking of the Hogwarts Express lulled them into a half-doze.

Regulus, however, was too excited to doze. He flipped through his books for potions class and his textbook for Transfiguration with interest. Potions had interested him ever since Hermione had sent the family phials of an improved Pepperup potion to help the get rid of their horrible cold. He had never had a potion work so well, and he wanted to know everything about it. Hermione, of course, admonished him, telling him that he should focus on the basics first, such as having a wand, before throwing all caution to the wind. The adventure in crafting the hot springs in the spare room, however, gave him the itch to learn Transfiguration. Oh, who was he fooling? He wanted to learn everything!

The fuzz ball that was Treacle meowed from atop her pile of candy and hopped into his lap, purring. She head-butted into his chest and under his hand demandingly. Regulus glared at her, still holding a grudge from his earlier bite from the wilful creature. She stared up at him sweetly with her bright green eyes. Regulus sighed, relenting. He pulled his hand across her back, soothing her soft half-kitten fluffiness. He had fully intended to get an owl like his sister, but Treacle had run right up to him and laid claim to him by attacking his ankle. Regulus had been tempted to name the kitten Sirius until he realised she was a female Kneazle.

The idea of Sirius being female, however, amused him greatly. Hermione and Sirius would be at each other's throats even more than they had been growing up. Of course, if Sirius and Hermione were both female, that would throw a lot of responsibility about continuing the family name onto Regulus that he didn't want one bit. Eugh. He didn't want to think about that. It was bad enough he had to explain courtship to Lily. How embarrassing. Thank goodness his mother didn't catch wind of it. Walburga would have died of mortification, risen from the dead, and then given her youngest son the tongue-lashing of his life about propriety.

Regulus did note that Hermione's friend had been holed up with his father the rest of the weekend instead of joining them in the transfiguration party going on in the spare room. Perhaps she had taken some of what he said to heart and found someone to help her with getting a handle on pure-blood manners. He might not be able to tell her all the ins and outs of female subtleties, but Orion could at least get her out the door without having her make a fool of herself. It was essential when greeting wizards of higher status than her. Regulus had to admit that, despite how far the Wizarding World was coming along from say, the Dark Ages, it was still a world run on a Patriarchy in many places. Learning how to act around Orion was going to keep her from insulting someone like Abraxas Malfoy by accident. That was, by far, more important than knowing how to cover her mouth just so when laughing and what fork was the salad fork.

Walburga would argue that knowing what fork was the salad fork was the key to a good social manners. Your bread plate had to go at the upper left and was attended by a butter spreader that went horizontally across the top of the plate. That was the norm, at least, unless you were one of those odd families that rebelliously put the bread knife diagonally across the plate. The end of the spreader went to your left or was scandalous. Your dessert spoon went above your cake fork as twelve o'clock. Your water glass was at one, your red wine at one-thirty, and your white wine went at two. Your napkin went on your left or on top of your plate. Your fish fork took the outlier position on the left, the dinner fork to the right of that, and the salad fork hugged the plate.

The dinner knife, of course, was on the right side of the plate, the fish fork was to the right of that, the soup spoon settled between the fish and the seafood fork. There was also the matter of the service plate, then the salad plate, and the ever elusive coffee cup and saucer, which usually only came out at dessert time. Usually. Sometimes even Pure-bloods mixed that up and offered coffee during the main meal, not that it would ever happen under Walburga's watch. Ever. The rebellious newcomer, the teaspoon, was starting to make its way into the knife side of the gathering. His mother would admonish anyone who put out a teaspoon when tea or coffee was not going to come around until dessert.

Regulus grinned to himself. Things became really complicated at formal celebrations when champagne flutes were involved or sherry glasses. The champagne flute encroached between the water goblet and the white wine glass, and the sherry glass was set to the very right and front of the red wine glass.

One time Regulus has the audacity to ask where the brandy snifter or the firewhisky shot glass went, and his mother had practically thrown the salt and pepper shakers at him. He later had to learn that particular detail from his father. Apparently brandy and firewhisky was a father's job to teach his son. Regulus had filed that way in his mind for that future time when he'd have a son of his own, if, he reasoned, he survived puberty. One step at a time, Regulus. See if you can make it through the Sorting Ceremony first? Okay? Good.

Truth be told, Regulus had once wanted to go wherever his older brother was. He would have followed Sirius to the edge of the world and taken the plunge with him in his younger years. Now, however, at the budding age of eleven, he was fully aware that his brother was not the one he should be following to the edge of the world. Sirius would just jump off into the Abyss laughing. Hermione would find a way to fly and carry Regulus with her. Things were always safer with Hermione. Hundreds of nights cuddled together in the wardrobe as his mother screamed at Sirius had taught that lesson quite well.

Sirius tried to teach him how to enjoy life. Hermione tried to teach him how to survive to be able to enjoy his life. When he thought about it, survival was looking pretty attractive. He'd have plenty of time to do hair-brained things later when his mother wasn't lurking like magical Armenian Three-toed Fire Vulture, ready to burst into flames at the first sign of impropriety. That left him with his sister as the best option for his school career survival.

Hermione was in Slytherin, which was the expected House for members of his family. Hermione had already paved the way for him in drilling into him who was who. She detailed who to run to if things went pear-shaped and who not to run to if things were looking like a duel was breaking out. Sirius had just said if he got in with him, he'd take care of him, as always. Regulus' eyebrow twitched. That was what he was afraid of.

He watched his sister, Severus, and Remus dozing together on the opposite train seat. Sagacity hooted softly from Hermione's lap, preferring to snuggle up to his sister whenever possible. Orion had said it was a good sign. It meant that Sagacity was her familiar instead of just her owl. Regulus petted the Kneazle in his lap and wondered if Treacle would become his familiar. The kitten stared up at him cutely, placing her paws on his thumb and meowing sweetly. It melted him, that little meow. He was as doomed as his father to be at the beck and call to the little interloper.

The train jostled slightly, and Remus opened his eyes slowly, staring into Regulus. Regulus startled slightly. For a moment, his eyes had seemed more golden than green, but then the wizard's eyes closed again. Regulus stared out the window. A trick of the light, perhaps?

Hermione's eyes were open, staring at him much as Remus had earlier, and again Regulus had to rub his eyes, swearing that he saw his sister's grey eyes bleed into amber. When he looked up again, they were grey, and he considered that maybe he should have slept a little more last night instead of keeping all of them up long into the morning.

Hermione opened her arm to him, and Regulus switched over to the other seat, allowing his sister's arm to curve around him and pull him close. He snuggled into her robes, joining the sleepy pile. A strange lethargy came over him as he joined them, almost as if being with them was a calming draught. Even though he had not been tired up to that point, he felt his eyes drifting closed.

Treacle meowed sadly from the other seat. She scrambled down to the floor of the train car, bounded up towards the gathered legs on the other side, leapt up into the nearest leg, and pulled herself up into Regulus' lap once more. She yawned toothily, licked one paw to draw over her ears, and then promptly fell asleep.

* * *

"Welcome to Slytherin, young Lord Black," Lucius purred softly as the new first years filed into the Common Room for the first time.

Regulus looked up to see the tall and immaculate Malfoy staring at him with a quirk of his lips. Regulus bowed his head in deference. "Thank you, Lord Malfoy."

"Lucius," Lucius said softly, "at least when we are here and amongst our brethren." He waved his head in a twirling motion.

"Regulus, please," Regulus repeated the courtesy with a nod.

Lucius smiled and nodded. "Your sister speaks the world of you, Regulus. "Are the stories to be believed?"

Regulus smiled impishly. "Did she tell you the story of me crowing on the roof of my house pretending to be a cockatrice?"

Lucius chuckled. "Perhaps, young Regulus. Perhaps."

"That wasn't even my best moment!" Regulus said with a grin.

"No, brother," Hermione said as she came into the Common Room. "Your best moment was when you tried to fly off the roof and our Lord Father had to catch you in front of about fifteen startled Muggles."

Regulus blushed crimson as Lucius tilted back his head and laughed. "I would recommend trying not to fling yourself off the parapets of Hogwarts, Regulus," Lucius said, extending his hand formally.

Regulus, recognising Lucius' desire to bestow his protection upon him, bowed. He leaned in as if to kiss his knuckles. Many eyes were upon him as Lucius gently touched his shoulder and his hair.

"If there is anything you need, Regulus," Lucius said softly. "You will tell me, yes?"

"Of course, Lucius," Regulus said with a smile as he stood up straight.

The blond Slytherin nodded. "I will leave you to make yourself at home, Regulus. I should be helping the others of your class before they accidentally port themselves into the sea portrait and end up in Black Lake."

Regulus gave him a very good Severus Snape eyebrow, which he later realised that spending a summer with Hermione, Severus, and Remus had instilled quite a few of their joined mannerisms.

Lucius laughed. "I see you will be fine here, Regulus," he said with a smile. He took Hermione's hand in his and brought it to his lips. "My Lady, Hermione," He purred softly. "A pleasure."

Hermione blushed, dipping into a half curtsy, knowing that Lucius was using her title to do exactly what it did—make her blush. "Lord Malfoy," she whispered to the floor.

Lucius brushed his lips against the top of her hand, released it, and swept the room, his student robes swishing behind him like a cape.

Regulus nudged his elbow into his sister's ribs, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What?" Hermione squeaked.

"You fancy him," Regulus said, giving her the "look."

"I do not!" Hermione protested, turning red.

"They why are you oscillating between five shades of red?" Regulus asked, his smile beaming across his face.

"Six, I'll have you know, and I do not!" Hermione said with a sniff, turning her nose up at her brother.

"Hn," Regulus said, channelling Severus. "Has he kissed you yet?"

"Regulus Arcturus Black!" Hermione yelled, chasing her brother down the "boy's dorm" hallway, Regulus squealing in delight as she did so.

"That's the one your father calls 'Lord Black-eye' is it not?" Bulstrode asked the boy beside him. He passed him an apple from the nearby fruit bowl.

"Indeed," Nott said with a smirk, biting into the apple noisily. "He socked my dad in the face in front of the entire Wizengamot."

"Impressive," Bulstrode said with a twitch of his lips. "Blacks always make the most memorable introductions."

Nott snickered. "Blacks and the Malfoys both," he said with a sniff. "When Lucius was about the age of Black-eye, he crawled into Head of the Department of Law Enforcement's lap and asked who he was sending to Azkaban that day."

Bulstrode almost choked on the apple he was eating. "Serious?"

Nott grinned. "I couldn't make it up any better."

Bulstrode shook his head. "Am I to believe that the Nott family doesn't have some embarrassing story about you as a child, Nott?"

Nott shrugged. "Don't we all have something we'd almost glad we don't remember doing?

"Mum said my older sister was working on some transfiguration project for school one holiday and accidentally turned me into a squirrel. I ran up into the trees and cavorted with the local squirrels for a week before they found me," Bulstrode said with some embarrassment.

Nott's eyes grew really wide. "You spend a week of your life as a squirrel? How old were you?"

"Five, I think," Bulstrode said. "It's not like I remember it happening."

"Merlin, Bulstrode," Nott said, blowing a long jet of air out of his lungs. "No wonder your mother is so protective of you."

His friend grinned back at him. "I have had an unhealthy obsession with nuts since then."

Nott shook his head. "Remind me never to piss your sister off."

Bulstrode grinned at him. "She's graduated from squirrels if that makes it any better."

"Dare I ask?"

"Now, she turns me into a wombat and cuddles me when I piss her off."

Nott's face twisted into something between horror and respect for the female sibling of House of Bulstrode. "I stand corrected."

"Whatever of?" Bulstrode asked.

"Your sister is terrifying."

Bulstrode pulled the chessboard closer to them. "Strategic game of violence, Nott?"

"Please," Nott agreed, moving to sit opposite the board.

Bulstrode grinned at his friend as the game began anew in an entirely different manner.

* * *

_September 14th, 1972, Moon First Quarter 38%_

"Lily," Severus repeated.

Lily was staring off into space.

"Lily!" Severus said again, a little louder.

Lily continued to stare off into the distance, sighing to herself.

Severus waved his hand in front of her face, and she continued to stare. He sighed, closing the library book in front of him. He pulled at his collar with his finger, loosening it slightly. His fingers traced the marks on his collar in a habitual act of reassurance. A part of him still hadn't accepted that his being Apprenticed wasn't a fevered dream that he would wake up from in his cold bed back at Spinner's End.

His father, of course, didn't give two shakes about what his son had accomplished. He had, however, cared that his son looked like a freak and had tried to rip the robes off him. He'd also tried to throw his "freak shoes" into the fire too, much to Severus' horror. Much to his relief, Hermione's gift to him had shown the quality of their making and refused to burn. Dragonhide was, thankfully, not anything like cowhide. His Apprentice robes, thankfully, were far more resistant to his father's rough treatment than his normal Muggle clothing. It was, he was happy to find out, resistant to drunken vomit. Bully for that.

Thankfully, thanks to his Apprenticeship, he spent more time with Hermione and Remus learning under his combined Masters over the summer than dealing with his drunken father. His mother had spoken with Orion and accepted the elder Black's invitation to allow Severus to stay with the Black Family during the holidays in between his Apprentice excursions. His mother had hugged him tight and stroked his hair, telling him she was so proud of him. She had looked genuinely relieved that Severus had a way to be safely away from his father, and that feeling had overridden her desire to have him close.

Severus had overheard Orion Black asking his mother if she had a safe place to stay if her situation with her—what was the word he used— vilipender changed for the worse. He had given his mother something. Perhaps it had been a token, emergency money, or even a Portkey. Severus hadn't asked, and his mother had tucked it away faster than he could confirm.

Lily was staring dreamily at one of the seventh years who had taken up one of the library tables with a hundred and one books. Every time the boy moved, adjusted his hair, shrugged, or picked his teeth, Lily would sigh as though it were the most attractive thing in the world.

Severus ran his hand through his abused hair. He definitely wasn't winning any awards with his hair thanks to the atrocious shampoo and conditioner that had abused his scalp first year. While Lily had since then tried to make it right with the new concoctions she made, the results were not exactly successful. His hair was now silky smooth to the touch, still looked like he hadn't washed it in a week, and it smelled of juniper berries. Last week it had smelled like strawberries, and a random Hufflepuff had started following him around like a lost sheep. Thankfully, Severus' practice at what Hermione called "the Snape glare" was very effective in driving off the clingy hair-sniffing Hufflepuff.

He hadn't wanted to indulge Lily after her first failures, but she swore up and down that she wanted to make it right. He sighed inwardly. He should have known better than to let a witch and shampoo get near him for any reason. That is what got his hair into trouble the first time. Then again, three times out of the month he let a drooling werewolf have his way with his hair, feathers, and most recently fur, so maybe he was just a masochist.

Severus glanced around him and realised with some discomfort that Lily wasn't the only one that was preoccupied with a certain upperclassman than actual studying.

"Do you think he'd come with me to the Slug Club dinner, Sev?" Lily asked dreamily.

Severus' mind stalled and his eye twitched. "What?" he answered.

As Lily stared off towards her newest preoccupation, Severus buried his head into his library book, feeling very uncomfortable. He had never seen Lily so taken someone that it distracted her from her studies. He had seen her in a multitude of emotional states, and he had once thought that righteous and angry Lily had been a scary thing, but he changed his mind. Lily with a crush was far more disturbing.

As his eyes saw almost identical gazes from witches gathered in the library, he started to feel like he was caught in a swarm of hunting predators.

Severus used his book as a shield.

Werewolves be damned. Witches were scary.

* * *

"I've got it!" Remus said, sitting upright suddenly. The Kneazle kitten that had been interloping on his chest space woke with a startled meow. Remus soothed Treacle with a grin. "We'll call you Flames."

Hermione gave Remus a side-long glance and ran her tongue over her incisors.

Remus stuck his head out, jutting his chin in protest. "You call me Tuft. I shouldn't be the only one with a bloody nickname."

"Psh," Hermione said. "Language." She pointed to her younger brother as if to demonstrate her point.

Remus crossed his arms.

"It makes sense," Regulus quipped. "Father calls you his phoenix. Phoenixes are," he trailed off, "prone to being on fire."

Hermione sighed at Regulus.

"Well, now she's smouldering," Severus said with a sniff. "Maybe Ember would be more appropriate. Besides, Ember sounds more dignified."

Hermione rolled her head to the side and stared at Severus.

He gave her a subtle smile, his hair fell around his face in the breeze, framing his pale face.

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "If it's a choice between Flames and Ember. I'll take Ember."

Remus pouted. "You just took Ember because Severus suggested it. I get to pick a name for Severus then. You got to pick mine. Severus picked yours. It's my turn."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Depends on what you choose," he said guardedly. "If you say something stupid likes 'wings' I will curse you into next month."

Remus slumped, obviously disappointed that his first choice was taken.

Severus glared at him pointedly.

"Redfoot!"

Glare.

"Pieface?"

Murderous glare.

"Sootball?"

"Don't make me hex you, Tuft," Severus said with a sniff.

"Onyx," Regulus said.

Remus looked at him with resignation.

"It reminds me of his eyes," Regulus reasoned.

"Five points to Slytherin," Severus muttered, waving his hand.

Hermione made a soft choking sound, giving Severus a look that seemed to say she couldn't believe he just said that. Severus looked at her innocently. "What?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing, you just, reminded me of someone."

"Oh?" Severus said, arching a brow. "Who?"

"You, twenty years from now, teaching potions," Hermione said with a twist of her lips.

Severus let out his breath in a quick hiss. "And you think of me twenty years from now often?"

Hermione gave him a wistful smile. "Perhaps."

Severus met her gaze and then shook his head. "You are a strange witch," he said at last.

Hermione chuckled, leaning back against Severus' chest, bringing her book up to read as she inclined on him.

Regulus moved over and slumped over on Hermione. "When do I get a nickname, sis?" he purred.

"When you've earned it," Hermione said immediately.

Regulus frowned. "How do I know I've earned it?"

"When you have one," Severus said with a snort.

Regulus pouted. "As long as it isn't Reg. I hate it when people shorten my name." The young wizard had tried incessantly to wiggle his way into the inner circle that was trio, and while he had the feeling he was doing quite well for his first month at Hogwarts, it always seemed like he was missing something important on this particular day.

It wasn't that they didn't treat him well. They did, in fact, treat him very well. It just felt that sometimes he was missing some inside joke he wasn't made privy to, or that they were speaking some foreign language that he couldn't even hear. All of this speculation ended, however, when Remus stated, "Professor McGonagall said we could learn to make ice cream tonight if we brought her some vanilla extract. Professor Sprout is hoarding some in her secret stash."

"You know what that means," Hermione said.

"Collect the nectar from the ridge-backed sneezing orchids for her," Severus moaned.

"I'll make the face shields!" Hermione said, hopping to her feet.

"I'll get the collection tubes, Severus grunted.

"I'll get the gloves," Remus said, extending his hand for Regulus.

"What do I get to do?" Regulus asked, pulling himself up on Remus' hand.

The trio grinned at him. "You get to catch the nectar!"

Regulus had the sinking feeling that they did not mean to hold a bucket under a plant.

Two hours later, when Regulus and the trio walked into Minerva McGonagall's chambers, the Deputy Headmistress stared at the pollen covered Regulus and her grinning apprentices. Regulus handed Minerva the vial of vanilla extract with a tired sigh.

Minerva grinned with all of the power of a Cheshire cat, cleaned the pollinated young wizard with her wand, and herded the four of them into the room she had the chilled cauldron waiting.

An hour after that, as the four of her students lay sprawled on her sitting room floor, ice cream bowls cradled in their hands. Their homework was spread in front of them, and Minerva allowed herself a small cheer of victory towards the power of inspired education. She dipped her spoon into her ice cream and enjoyed every blessed spoonful.

* * *

Dear Regulus,

I am gladdened to hear that you are enjoying your first month at Hogwarts. Your mother sends you her heartfelt congratulations upon being sorted into Slytherin as well as the attached baked goods. She says there should be enough for you to share, provided you do not binge eat them all and make yourself sick.

She would never admit to this, but I think she is greatly relieved that you will share the same house with your sister and her friend Severus. I think she was a little worried that you would do much as you did when you were much younger, and take after your older brother. Seeing how poorly Sirius' House has treated him so far, I must confess that I too am glad you are in Slytherin where your sister can be close to you.

Denebola misses you, my son, for he has roamed the house meowing for you in the mornings as he looked for his morning treat. Hrm, what's that my son? Didn't you realise I knew you were smuggling little fish for him in the mornings? I am your father, Regulus, not blind.

I have sent funds covering the replacement for your melted cauldron to Professor Slughorn. He was very kind to offer you one of his spares, and I am curious as to what you were doing when your cauldron blew up. Your mother noted that even Sirius has managed not to blow his up yet, so she is concerned that perhaps you are too distracted during potions class. As your father, it is my duty to remind you that your school performance is very important to us, but I must also remind you to take time for yourself.

I am proud of you, my son.

Your loving father,

Orion Black (his seal, the Belt of Orion)

* * *

**A/N**: I will admit I am now craving vanilla bean ice cream.

So, how do you think that dear Regulus should discover the trio's Animagus secret? Should he? Remember, they are legal Animagi, so they are not hiding it because they're unregistered. Minerva just doesn't want them flaunting their ability in front of the other students in case the skill will save their life when they really need it to. Should he meet Tuft (in the fur)?

Personally, I'm leaning towards having something threaten Regulus' safety, and the pack rises to protect him because he's family. I have no idea what that will be, but hey! Who knows? Heh.


	28. The Trouble With Rodents

**A/N: **Been a while since this one was updated, but real life is the most powerful de-motivator when it comes to inspiration on an epic scale as this story. I have intensive classes until the end of June, so I cannot promise rose gardens and frequent updates. My apologies.

**Disclaimer:** HP universe/characters belong to JKR. Still her sandbox.

**Beta Love:** fluffpanda

_An Karanir Thanagor_

_(Long live the king)_

_Mor Ok Angalor_

_(May his reign last forever)_

_Mor Ok Gorum..._

_(May his strength…)_

_Pala Uh'm Ravali Ah'm._

_(fail him never.)_

_-Lament of the Lich King_

**Chapter 28: The Trouble with Rodents**

_Friday, September 22nd, 1972, Full Moon_

Hermione was starting to think that instead of a jinx on the DADA Professor seat, there was a jinx on her inability to keep a roommate for longer than a week.

So far, her first two roommates came down with dragon pox of all things. After every cough, they set their curtains on fire and broke out in scale-like growths all over their bodies. Students were now afraid to be her roommate lest they come down with some sort of flaming disease. Rumors began every time a new girl was moved in, they moved out within days, apparently so convinced of their fate if they were to stay with her that they were making themselves sick worrying about it. Slughorn had come in and done a magical scan of her room, looking for some sort of curse or another, but said there was nothing wrong with it. Finally, he ended up with so many requests begging to transfer out that he loathed to transfer anyone in, and so, Hermione ended up alone once more.

Hermione began to ponder things like her personality, hygiene, and possible tendency to talk in her sleep but came up with nothing. She even dragged Narcissa in to watch her sleep just to make sure she wasn't spewing dark curses in her nightmares or something equally heinous like lyrics to a horrible Muggle 70s song. Thankfully, Narcissa said she hadn't hadn't slept so well in her life, and she didn't break out in spots, scales, polka dots, random bouts of song, or flaming sneezes. Thank Merlin for small favours.

When it came down to it, Hermione found herself somewhat relieved that the "plague" rid herself of roommates because it made it so much easier to sneak out unnoticed. Hermione Granger cringed at the fact that she had become, in a very Slytherin manner, just as sneaky and manipulative as Harry and Ron accused one Draco Malfoy of being. Perhaps it really was a Slytherin trait. But if that was true… what did that make Hermione Granger? It wasn't like the "Golden Trio" hadn't been guilty of doing exactly what Malfoy had. The only difference was, Harry had an invisibility cloak.

A tawny owl fluttered into her room and landed on her bed. Sagacity eyed the interloper from his perch nearby and hooted with low rumble. The smaller, yet striking, tawny owl responded with a warbling sound. It extended its foot for her as if to explain everything.

Hermione took the parchment from around the owl's leg and offered her an owl nut, chuckling as the owl tore into it with haste. She stared at the parchment.

_Miss Black,_

_Please come to my office this evening at a quarter before six regarding a matter of great concern._

_Headmaster Dumbledore_

Hermione blinked. Tonight was not an ideal time to be caught up at the Headmaster's Office.

Hermione pulled out a quill and parchment and scribbled down a quick note to Minerva and passed it to Sagacity. The owl hooted softly, beaked her fingers, and held out his foot patiently for her to lash it to his leg. Hermione scratched the owl under the chin, handing him an owl nut. He took the offering and launched into the air, gliding off to the network of channels within Hogwarts that owls took to fly in and out of the school's many rooms.

Hermione flung open her dormitory door and raced down the hall only to plough straight into Severus.

"Severus!"

"Hermione!"

They stared at each other.

"You first," they chimed together.

They both pinched the bridge of their nose.

"Dumbledore wants to see me," Hermione said.

"Can you tell Remus Dumbled—" Severus started to say.

They both looked at each other in a panic.

"Well, crap," they said together.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Who do you think lives in this house?" James asked as he brushed the leaves off himself and stared at Sirius and Peter.

"This place is dreary," Sirius complained. "Who'd want to live in such a stuffy looking place. He rubbed the window with his sleeve.

"You sure you saw Remus go this direction, Peter?" James muttered.

"He came out this way with Madam Pomfrey," Peter replied in a whiny voice.

Sirius winced and shoved Peter to make the sound stop. "Alright, alright, we believe you, but why would Remus be out near this old dilapidated shack?"

"I just thought it was a little strange, you know," Peter said, rubbing his fingernails with the pads of his fingers. "Her always walking out here with him being sick and all."

"Some people just need fresh air when they are sick," Sirius muttered. "Merlin knows my mother could use the fresh air."

"Fresh air in the moonlight?" Peter whined.

"What are you implying, Peter?" James demanded.

"Nothing, James," Peter defended. "I'm just saying it's worth a little curiosity.

James pressed his nose against the glass and tried to peer into the darkened window and sighed. "I can't see a thing. I'm going to feel really stupid if we came out here, and Remus is back in the hospital wing with a cup of cocoa and a good book."

"Why are we out here again?" Sirius muttered, tapping on the window with his finger. "This place is creepy. It's like the shack the old wizard that sits on the porch and shakes his gnarled walking stick at you as he's going 'get off my lawn, ya damn kids!'"

James snorted. "We have a wizard near where I grew up who is just like that. He has the gnarled walking stick and his pointed hat is so well starched he bumps into overhang on his porch when he's yelling at you."

"We pranked him good a few Octobers back," Peter said happily. We made his pumpkins move around his yard, so he thought his garden was infested with gnomes."

Sirius snickered. "Must be even worse now that you have magic."

"Can't," James said. "Tried something simple. Levitated a few things around his yard this last summer. Dad got a letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office stating that not only did I use magic outside of school, but I used it in the vicinity of a Muggle. There was no one around, I swear, but somehow they knew. I didn't even see the Muggles either. If they were there, they were hiding in the bushes trying to do exactly what we were doing."

"Tough luck, mate," Sirius said. "Father warned us about the Trace. They keep track of the spells you cast and where you cast them until you're seventeen. There are exceptions to it, but they are few in number. One of them is if you are Apprenticed under a Master that requires you to use your magic in the performance of your duties. All of them basically require someone much older to vouch for you on their honour."

"Hey, your sister is Apprenticed," James said absently.

"What of it?" Sirius said shortly, bristling.

James waved his hands. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch, mate. I'm just thinking we should befriend her, then she could move the pumpkins in Old Man Conner's garden for us."

Sirius snorted. "One, she's about as likely to support magical mischief with underaged wizards that could bring shame on her or the Noble House of Black as to I sprouting wings and donning a halo. Two, she's Slytherin, which means she would need something out of it to even consider it. Even my little brother wouldn't do something for free," Sirius explained with a sniff.

James let out a huff of air. "She would have the great honour of knowing me— the greatest Gryffindor!"

Sirius and Peter gave James and his ego a speculative eyebrow.

"What?" James said, preening himself.

"Trust me, mate," Sirius said. "That won't help you in the slightest. The only thing that impresses my sister is intelligence, proven accomplishments, and ton of other things we don't do."

"What do you mean? Things we don't do?" Peter whined.

"Not get into mischief," Sirius said with a lopsided grin, "or sneak around after dark from under an Invisibility Cloak."

"Oh," Peter and James said, put-out.

"We should prank the Slytherin more,"Peter suggested. "It'll loosen 'em up!"

Sirius' face darkened. "You leave my sister out of it. She's done nothing to us, even though we bloody well deserve retaliation. I've done nothing but defend your arses, and every time I did, you both did something else that made me look like an idiot."

"We didn't do anything harmful, Sirius," whined Peter, "just pranks."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "One of those harmless pranks put me in the hospital ward after that lionfish spine stabbed me in the hand."

James looked embarrassed. "I really don't know what came over me with that."

"Sirius," Peter whimpered. "It was just innocent fun."

"Innocent fun?" Sirius grabbed Peter by the collar and stared into his face. "You put me in the hospital with those idiot candies—those supposedly harmless chocolates. I was in the hospitals for months. I was in with a mind healer for a month on top of that just to make sure I wasn't going to completely mental forever. The only reason I wasn't held back is that my sister brought me my homework for every class every day even for the classes she wasn't with me in. Is that what you call_ innocent fun_?"

Peter's face twisted into a appeasing look. "I didn't know they were tampered with," he bemoaned. "I just wanted the best for my friends."

Sirius scoffed, releasing his hand from Peter's shirt.

"I just realised something," James said, rubbing his chin. "This house doesn't have a front door or a back door. How does anyone get in?"

"Magic?" Sirius answered, eyebrow raised.

James sighed at Sirius. "I've lived in a Wizarding neighbourhood all my life, and no one I know of lives in a house with no doors."

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe you don't live around enough anti-social, grumpy, old wizards with severe complexes?"

James rolled his eyes. "There is something about this place that seems off. Do these window even open?" He fussed with the window with his fingers, making a scraping sound with his nails. "Damn, sealed up tight."

"Are you actually trying to break into someone's house? Sirius asked, slapping James on the shoulder. "That's what we've been lowered to? Burglary?"

"Not burglary," James snorted. "We're not going to take anything. I just want to see what's inside."

"Oh, trespassing," Sirius moaned, "so much better."

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, Sirius," Peter said, reaching over to help James with the window.

Sirius felt a twisting in his gut that told him that bad things were going to happen again, and he would probably be paying the price of it.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The window had been an absolute bust, but Peter hadn't let either James or Sirius give up there. Somehow, and Sirius wasn't sure how, Peter found a pathway that led back to the shack by an underground passageway guarded by a very angry Whomping Willow.

There were odd latches on the trapdoor that were perfectly shaped for human fingers which seemed strange considering neither of them could figure out what else would be trying to open up a trapdoor. Battered and bruised from the wailing the irate tree had given them, James and Sirius were moaning softly as they rubbed their arms and heads.

"Why are we here again?" Sirius groaned, rubbing his arse where a branch had tried to beat him into the ground.

"I'm blaming this guy," James said, pointing his thumb towards Peter.

Peter wrung his hands. "Come on, guys, there has to be something here worth finding. Why make a house with no doors or working windows but leave a trapdoor to get in?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sirius grunted. "Maybe someone likes their privacy?"

"Yeah, maybe the guy is hideous looking or came down with dragon pox and doesn't want to infect his neighbours," James said, scratching his sore neck.

"How did you manage to get here without getting beaten up by that horrible tree?" Sirius asked, poking Peter on the shoulder with two fingers.

Peter shrugged. "Willow went after you two. I had a clear run in."

James curled his lip. "Remind me to throw you in first next time. I'm tired of being the one beaten up first."

Peter make a pitiful face in reply and James rolled his eyes.

James and Sirius attempted to rattle the trapdoor, but it refused to budge, even with the human-sized handholds. James tried a few spells, and Sirius did too, but nothing seemed to do whatever the door needed in order to get it to budge.

"Bother, foiled by a bloody door," James muttered. "Come on, we should just get back to the dormitories before the Prefect notices we're gone. It's bad enough I let you convince me to come out here without my cloak, Peter."

"We didn't have time to go back before the professors started evening rounds in the hallways, James," Peter explained with a whine.

Sirius scoffed, giving up on the door. "Psh, let's go. We should just admit that we've been shown up by a door. Let's just hope we don't get caught by a Prefect or worse getting back. Marlene said if she catches us sneaking back into the dormitories again, she's going to report us to McGonagall herself."

"Some loyalty," James muttered.

"She's not a rule breaker," Sirius said.

The duo shook their heads and stared back down the tunnel, resigned that their egos would just have to deal with the fact that a trapdoor was beyond their skill to open.

"Guy's come back!" Peter whispered. "I got it!"

James and Sirius froze in place, turning back to see Peter with his hands up to the trapdoor. It was open a few inches.

"How in blazes…" James began.

Peter gestured with his neck. "Come on!"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. Something bothered him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He watched James helping Peter open the trapdoor further.

"Bullocks," Sirius grunted under his breath and hurried over to assist.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Tuft rolled around on his back on the low cushioned bed in the room. He snuffled one of the robes Hermione and Severus had left for him, relishing the scent of his pack-mates and taking comfort from it. His tail thumped as he smashed his head against the fabric and mouthed it gently. He wasn't overly concerned that his pack were not with him on this particular night. There was a feeling in his stomach that seemed to tell him that they were fine and there was no need to be overly worried.

He was a bit bored and lonely, but the connection with his Pack told him all was well. He missed them, having gotten used to their physical comfort, but the unseen but strong cords that bound him with his Pack grounded him. There were no tremors in the bonds, so Tuft was content to chew on the marvellous haunch of venison he had been left, roll around on one of the robes of his pack-mates, and mouth the shed phoenix feather as he ran around the shack chasing an enchanted rabbit construct that Severus had made for him, and try to scratch that itch on his back by rubbing up against the furniture. He wanted to romp with his pack-mates under the moon in Master Barberry's garden, but something told him he had to guard this particular den instead of the garden he preferred.

A creaking noise caught his attention, and Tuft froze, ears swivelling and nose working. His legs were still, poised in the air in mid-roll. Tuft stopped panting, all senses working as he rolled over onto his belly and pointed his head towards the hallway. Was his Pack returning to him?

Tuft cocked his head; his amber eyes scanned the gloom of the hallway. He swivelled his ears forward and backward, attempting to hone in on what was out of place in his den. The sounds of footsteps were not right. The weight was wrong. He sniffed the incoming breeze of air that funnelled in from under the house, and it carried foreign scents.

Three human shapes entered his vision; their smells were all wrong

Tuft growled lowly. His tail wagged slowly, but his hackles were raised. His lips slowly drew back from his teeth.

Home. Protect.

Yet, so far, there was no threat. There was no stench of challenge or the bitter taste of an interloper seeking to drench their scent upon his pack's territory. They could be wanderers, like the hoofed ones that roamed the forests, or the guests in Master Barberry's garden—something to be left alone for they came and left about their own business with no need for territory and no intention to invade the den, threaten the pack, or endanger pups.

Tuft watched them move around in the dark of the room. One of them made a bright light from a stick in his hand, casting the entire hallway in light. One of them turned on the lamp in the hall, casting the room in a less intrusive amber glow.

Tuft and his pack had little use for the lights, usually. Sometimes when he "woke" the lights would already be on, but usually it was just enough to provide brighter night vision rather than a lit interior.

"Whoa, guys, the ceiling and walls!"

"It's like Hogwarts! Trees and skies, the moon, everything!"

"I wonder who lives here."

"I told you it was a wizard!"

"It even smells like a the outdoors in here. Like a forest!"

"No wonder there are no windows. Who would want to ruin this view?"

Tuft processed the sounds. The voices were not threatening, and the smaller humans smelled of excitement rather than challenge. Curiosity stirred in the werewolf. Wariness tempered it. Non-pack were possibly dangerous. Non-pack had to be watched carefully.

"Whoa, guys, look at the huge dog!"

"I don't think that's a dog, James."

"Look at him, laying there by the fireplace. Probably waiting for his master to come home."

"James, that's not a dog."

"Sure it is, who would keep a wild animal in a house? Hey, boy, we're not going to hurt you. Wow, he really is big."

"I think we need to get out of here before whoever owns this place comes back.

"Come on, Sirius. James just wants to pet the dog, right James?"

"Yeah, look, his tail is wagging."

"I've seen dogs that attack with their tails wagging, James."

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, Sirius."

"Peter, you hate dogs. Since when did you become an expert in dog behaviour?"

"Oh, and you're an expert? Mr. Dog Star?"

"Hush, Peter, he's watching us."

"How do you know it's a he?"

"Shut it, will you, look at those baleful eyes."

"Um… James that is _not _a dog. Dogs don't… oh, Merlin, we need to get out of here. For gods' sake don't touch anything."

"What are you talking about, Sirius? Here, boy… that's a good boy. Look he's wagging his tail."

"James, for once in your life, trust me on this. We need to get out of here now. We need to leave."

"Hey, there is a robe over here. A student…"

"Peter, no!"

Tuft's ears flicked as he heard their conversations. None of it made sense to him, but the tones were confusing. None of them were threatening, and boy closest to him had his hand out in invitation. He was speaking softly, clucking his tongue at him.

The werewolf stood, tail slowly swishing back and forth, ears perked, and nose working. He didn't like them in his space, so he considered driving them out, but he tolerated them for now as a somewhat akin to an oxpecker bird on a rhino's back. He could continue to tolerate them until they did something stupid.

One of the boys reached for Hermione and Severus' cast-off outer robe they had left for Tuft, and a chilling transformation came over Tuft.

Thief. Invader. _Threat._

Tuft's lips pulled back from his teeth as saliva dripped from his fangs and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

The boy did not drop the robe. Instead, he pulled it into his arms. His scent was not like the other two boys. The boy in front of him was still obliviously friendly. The boy in middle was trying to pull the first away, but the boy in back had a acrid double-layered scent about him. He smelled like a full-grown man and the vermin that made the mistake to enter his domain, and Tuft did not like it at all.

The third boy was stroking the robe, getting his disgusting scent over his pack-mate's robe, and Tuft sprang, teeth bared, eyes blazing, and a ferocious snarl on his lips.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"James, look!" Peter simpered. "Someone left their school robe here!"

"Peter, no!" Sirius hissed. "Don't touch anything!"

The boy reached out to grab it and pull it closer, and suddenly, the huge wolf's head snapped around. His teeth pulled back from his glistening fangs as a low, menacing growl burst from his throat. All signs of tameness was gone. The wolf's amber eyes were on fire with hatred, and his wagging tail was now stiff, erect, and standing on end. It was the last thing James saw before the giant beast tore after Peter with a beastly snarl and Peter screamed, running into the next room and out of sight.

-o-o-o-

Peter landed on the ground on all fours, his rat form heaving as his heart beat frantically. His eyes saw the open trapdoor just a few feet away, but between blessed freedom and where he was standing was a giant, angry werewolf.

Peter had known what it was the moment he saw him. He's heard about him. He'd heard many things. He knew many secrets he wasn't supposed to know, and he knew about this one since his "first year." He'd known about Remus Lupin for years. He knew his father's failed quest to cure his son from Fenris Greyback's attack.

Peter's mission, and it has always been his mission, was to gain the trust of James Potter and whatever friends he had, but it has always been James that was the focus. The other were just icing on the cake. He had worked hard to befriend James as a young child, charmed his parents since they were "kid's together," and they arrived at Hogwarts together.

Peter, however, had kept his secrets. He kept his own dark secrets within the depths of his mind, and no one suspected Peter. No, never Peter. One, he had been the victim of a terrible tragedy. Poor, poor, Peter. He couldn't have helped that Death Eaters had attacked his family and killed his parents.

No, young Peter couldn't have helped being perfectly in position to be rescued by the one and only Albus Dumbledore and taken under wing and groomed for the sole purpose to protect James Potter.

No one, not even Dumbledore, could suspect that poor, tragic, Peter might have been the ones to let the Death Eaters into his house that night to kill his sodding parents that tried to keep him from serving the Dark Lord. No, he was too innocent for that.

And thanks to the easily missed enchanted earring made out of the plucked beard hair of Dumbledore himself, the great and powerful Dumbledore would never know that poor, innocent Peter was anything but the elder wizard's pawn for his greater good. His mind was safe from being read, and Peter was free to scheme and plot right under the old wizard's arrogant nose.

Dumbledore had wanted to use Peter as a guardian for his precious James Potter, even to the point where he gave Peter a de-aging potion so he could be adopted into the Pettigrew family and raised with James. He had been working for Dumbledore for years, but even more importantly, he had been working for his Dark Lord as well.

No one had even bothered to check his arm for the Dark Mark. No one questioned when he said he had contact dermatitis on his arm and had to keep it bandaged. And the greatest secret of all, perhaps, was that no one knew he was an Animagus. He was so easily overlooked and underestimated, and he revelled in it.

He had tried to get Sirius in trouble with the Centaur, perhaps beaten up thoroughly, so Peter could have been there for him when he woke in the hospital bed. That plan had failed when Sirius' stupid Slytherin sister had ignored the rivalries that should have kept her from visiting him. Every time he had tried to get Sirius into trouble so that he could place himself in a position to rescue him, that stupid witch had gotten in the way of his master plan.

He had tried to get James to spearhead the war against Slytherin to encourage the festering war between the two houses. If Gryffindor and Slytherin refused to work together, everything would be perfect. No one would trust the other House, and Peter would be able to blame all of his misdeeds on Slytherin and no one would question it. If everyone hated Slytherin, it would have been even better.

The candy he had been using to dope James and make him more suggestible had been discovered by Poppy Pomfrey, and now there was a charm over Hogwarts that made his beautiful drugged candies disintegrate when detected. Every beautiful plan-in-motion had come to to a screeching halt.

Now, James' attempt to befriend the werewolf instead of doing something threatening to set the werewolf off was getting into his nicely thought out plan. Peter had to think fast, and he had made for touching the school robes that had been left on the nearby mattress in the hopes that the werewolf would get angry enough to snap out of the pacified doze he was in and do what werewolves were supposed to do: attack humans!

It would be perfect. Lupin would be guilt ridden for the rest of his life, and poor, caring Peter would be there to placate him and be his friend when no one else would. James and Sirius would be infected with lycanthropy, and Peter would be there with them as their only friend that was safe to be around. Dumbledore could hole them all up in this stupid shack thinking he curried their favour, but it would Peter that would keep them company. Peter that would be their friend.

There was just the matter of surviving the night.

The wolf had frozen in place as Peter had become the rat, his nose was working furiously. The power of his sniffs made the fur on Peter's back rise and fall. Peter started to relax as the wolf's lips loosened over his teeth, the aggressive snarl starting to fade as his two-legged prey had disappeared.

Peter began to calm down now that his rat-form protected him, the running theory being that a werewolf would not attack an animagus in animal form due to not being "human" anymore. He should be safe around a werewolf as long as he wasn't human. Peter took a step towards the trapdoor. Nothing. The wolf was watching him, ears swivelling, nose working. Peter took another step.

James and Sirius were clamouring up as high as possible in the next room. He could see them staring at him from their perch on the bookshelves. Did they know his secret? Or did they only see the wolf? He was pretty sure that they had not seen him transform. He had made sure to do it after he had changed rooms. The only problem was, he was going to have find his spare wand back in his trunk in the tower to change back. That was the one thing he could never master on his own: transforming without a wand. He transformed into his rat form, but now he had to find a wand to change back.

James knocked over some of the books on the shelf as he attempted to climb up higher, and the wolf swivelled his head around to look, his teeth bared in returned aggression.

Peter took his moment and dashed for the open trapdoor.

Pain! Pain so sharp it was like lightning had struck spread up from his back legs and tail where the wolf's jaws snapped over his rear legs and tail like a vice. James had been a distraction, but apparently, movement of a small brown furry animal had brought Tuft's predatory instincts into the forefront.

Peter screamed, writhing, clawing, biting at the wolf's muzzle in his desperation to be free. Primal instincts were now at play in Peter now that the dance between predator and prey. Gone were Peter's human thoughts. Gone were Peter's mechanisations. All that remained was a desperate rat trapped between the jaws of of the looming wolf. The pain had intensified so much that it had gone beyond pain. Now, there was only numbness in his hindquarters, and that gave him the push he needed to survive. He wrenched his one leg free of the wolf's jaws just as the wolf's teeth snapped together completely over his remaining foot and part of his tail with a sickening crunch.

Peter bit down on the wolf's lip with his teeth, desperately clawing towards the wolf's eyes, and the wolf had enough. The wolf shook his head like a dog with a rag doll. Once. Twice. SNAP.

Peter went flying against the open trap door and slid down it to the darkness below, the trapdoor slamming shut over the escape hatch. The wolf licked his jaws as the rat foot and partial tail went flying in the next room as the power of his vigorous shaking sent them tumbling into space.

The werewolf padded back into the main room, his eyes scanning the room for the two boys who had literally wedged themselves onto the top bookshelves and out of reach. Piles of displaced books lay on the ground where they had pushed them to make room for themselves.

The two boys stared fearfully at him, too terrified to make a move now that the werewolf had returned.

"Sirius, do you have your wand?"

"No, it's over there, by the fireplace."

"Dammit, mine fell out of my pocket. It rolled over there when the wolf attacked the rat."

"You saw the rat too?"

"Yeah, I hope Peter got out to get help. Good thing that rat was there to distract the wolf."

"I heard the trapdoor slam, he must have gotten out."

"We're going to be in serious trouble."

"We are in serious trouble."

"Yeah… that too."

The werewolf lay down on the mattress and watched the two boys, listening to their nonsensical chatter. He knew better than to climb on the bookshelves. His pack-mate would not be happy if he did. Instead, he settled for glaring at the intruders. Hopefully his pack-mates would return and help him decide what to do with the interlopers. Until then, he would remain watching them.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"As you can see, my enthusiastic Auror friends," Dumbledore said as he held out a bowl of lemon drops for them. "Those children are as much werewolves as I am."

The small group of frustrated looking Aurors looked both relieved and disappointed. "I'm sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore. We had explicit reports that these two children were involved with a number of undeclared werewolves, were infected, and put in place to infect other children. We couldn't ignore the allegations and not investigate."

Albus arched a brow at the two children playing Wizard Chess on his favourite chessboard. The black-haired wizard chuckled as his queen obliterated the witch's king. Her piece went flying off the table with a crash. The witch huffed, and pinched her nose, shaking her head at him. Albus had them doing all manner of things, from sorting through books and organising his focus crystals, but the only thing odd about the two were that they organised very efficiently for one their age. Even Albus, who preferred the company of his once House, had to admit that Minerva's Apprentices were dutiful, respectful, and upheld their Master's honour. They did nothing that would come back to reflect poorly upon McGonagall. Even Fawkes, who normally sat on the far perch and ignored visitors in the office, was perched on the nearby chair next to the two Slytherin, chirruping sweetly in commentary.

"As you know, gentleman," Albus said. "These two are part of the team that created the Wolfsbane potion. Even if they were werewolves, which they are obviously not, they could simply take the potion and be rendered peaceful. From what I understand, their potion has taken the werewolf community by storm. So tell me, truthfully, my friends, what brings you to our humble school on what seems to be a very obvious goose chase?"

The Aurors fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I see," Dumbledore said after a while. "As much as Hogwarts will always welcome guests that are looking out for the safety of our students, I find myself unsure how I can help you further, gentleman."

Severus' queen obliterated Hermione's king with a flourish. The remains of the king went flying across Dumbledore's office. Fawkes gave a startled squawk, and Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.

"I give up, Severus," she moaned. "I hate chess."

The black-haired boy chuckled, scratching Fawkes under the chin as if to apologise and then offered Hermione a piece of candy in apology to her.

"Are you consoling my horrible chess skill with chocolate?" Hermione asked, shooting him an accusatory eyebrow.

Severus tilted his head. "Is it working?"

Hermione was already chewing on the candy in reply, eyes sparkling.

There was a large bowl of fruit nearby, and Hermione and Severus took turns feeding the hungry phoenix. Fawkes chirruped sweetly, his head feathers rose and fell as he warbled to the two children. The two stuffed him full of plums and grapes, holding out the larger fruit for him to pry apart with his beak.

Fawkes sang a short song to Hermione, and the witch blushed as she pinched his beak closed. "Charmer," she accused.

"He's flirting with you," Severus muttered.

"Nonsense," Hermione laughed. "He's just being social."

"A social flirt," Severus grunted. "He's like a cockatiel. Lily had one. He would try to charm her every time she walked by, head crest in the hair trying to convince her to open the cage door."

"Only if cockatiels could spontaneously set themselves on fire," Hermione chuckled.

"Oh, that's just what Petunia would have loved," Severus said with a roll of his eyes. "Something else to call a freak."

"Is her entire family that way?" Hermione asked.

"Just her sister, really," Severus said with a tilt of his head. "Her parents don't understand magic, but they do not shun it like her sister. I think it's jealousy. She wrote Headmaster Dumbledore begging him to take her as a student not realising that you actually had to have magic to be accepted. I think that is what really cemented the hate over the jealousy."

Hermione frowned. "I can't imagine Sirius or Regulus hating me like that, though I was was really worried when we were sorted into different Houses that something horrible would happen between us. Something… hateful."

Severus had waved his wand to reset the chess board.

Hermione rubbed the phoenix under the chin with a grin, eliciting a happy warble from the bird. "I couldn't imagine my life without magic, but I'm sure that most Muggles couldn't imagine life without something we don't have."

"Beer," Severus snorted.

"Psh, we have beer," Hermione scoffed.

"The automobile," Severus countered. He furrowed his brows.

There was a knock at the door, and the two children looked over their shoulders to the door. Professor McGonagall walked in with Lily and a couple of her haircare product friends. They had protective aprons on and very confused faces.

"Ah, Headmaster, I brought you Lily as you requested," she explained. "She and her friends were knee-deep in a brewing project. Shall I leave her here?"

The gathered Aurors shook their head at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore waved at Minerva. "No, no," Albus said. "I fear there was a great misunderstanding, Professor McGonagall. My apologies Miss Evans. Please, return to your projects."

Lily looked quite confused, staring at Hermione and Severus curiously. The pair looked back at her with a shrug of mutual confusion. Lily and her friends were shuffled back out the Headmaster's office, and Hermione and Severus exchanged odd looks.

"I trust I do not have to walk to the boy's dormitories and wake poor Mr. Lupin at this late hour, my friends?" Dumbledore asked, tapping his fingers on the desk. "I think he's the only one of them that sleeps at a decent hour.

The Aurors shook their heads. "We've obviously been misinformed, Headmaster. There is no need. We are sorry to have kept your students up past normal visiting hours."

"Miss Black, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore addressed more loudly towards the two students who seemed to be trying to teach Fawkes how to move the pieces on the chessboard. "Thank you for helping me organise my shelves this evening. I am sorry to have kept you longer than expected."

"It is not a problem, Headmaster," Hermione said cheerfully.

"Fawkes is very good company," Severus said, scratching the phoenix under the chin to elicit a warm warble.

"Good, good, have a good night, children," Albus said.

"Yes, Headmaster," they chimed together, setting their chairs back in and bowing their heads respectively. "Goodnight." The pair moved out the door and Fawkes launched off the chair to follow them, landing on Severus' shoulder to warble a cheerful song as they left.

Dumbledore stared as his familiar ditched him for the company of two Slytherin and made a strange face. "I think I've just been snubbed."

The Aurors chuckled.

"A phoenix is a rare bird, Headmaster Dumbledore," one of them said. "How ever did you acquire it?"

"He was a gift from an old and dear friend, who I am sad to say we have long since parted ways," Albus confessed. "Fawkes, however, remains a testament to a simpler and less complicated time. He had a mind of his own however, as you can see, and has no trouble letting me know that I am not the boss of him."

One of the other Aurors chuckled. "The daughter of Orion and Walburga Black," she whistled softly. "She is like your phoenix, Headmaster. Independent and fiery."

"She is a Black," another Auror quipped. "Such traits come hand in hand in their family."

"More stable than her cousin," one of the male Auror's commented, "Bellatrix."

"I fear that one has never been stable, Landred," the female Auror said. "I went to school with her. She used to torture people's familiars just to see how it affected their witch or wizard. No one could ever prove it. They never caught her in the act, but some of us knew. We just knew."

"Truly, Mara?" Landred replied. "Awful. In Durmstrang, students were the epitome of good behaviour at school. Outside of school was a different story, but no one stepped out of line at school."

The other male Auror grunted. "I've heard many things about Durmstrang, Landred, but they gave us you, so they must not be all bad."

Landred laughed. "Thanks, Newman," he laughed. "Thank you for hosting us, Headmaster Dumbledore. We shall see ourselves out."

"I shall escort you out, my friends," Albus tutted. "Far be it for me to be an ungracious host."

The Aurors nodded, allowing themselves to be herded out of the office and off Hogwarts' grounds.

-o-o-o-o-

Tuft lifted his head as he heard the trapdoor open again, his ears perked as he tried to decipher who was invading his den again. This time, however he smelled the familiar scents of his pack-mates waft in from down below, and he wagged his tail excitedly.

Two dark black muzzles poked up through the trapdoor from down below, and Tuft was there to greet them, tail wagging and tongue working to slurp them in greeting. The two muzzles disappeared back down below, soft barks of invitation coming shortly after.

Tuft didn't need any further encouragement, and he dove through the open trapdoor to pounce on his pack-mates in a flurry of licking, sniffing, tail wagging, and excited growling. One silver-tabby took quite a few licks to the face before batting Tuft on the nose to keep his enthusiastic tongue to himself. The werewolf whined softly and transferred back to the two black wolves and woofed in invitation, making a play bow down on his front legs.

Hermione woofed, play-bowed, and tore off down the tunnel, and Tuft followed after like a heat-seeking missile. Severus took off after them both as the trio dodged the angry willow's branches and chased each other into the Dark Forest to frolic together.

With Tuft distracted, the silver tabby cat leapt up past the trapdoor and pulled herself into the hallway, her nose working as she smelled blood. The trail of blood had started all the way from Hogwarts—small droplets of blood mixed in with the tiny footprints of what might have been a decent-sized rodent. She really hoped Hogwarts wasn't going to have a rodent problem as its next "problem of the term."

Even more disturbing, the Gryffindor prefect reported that James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew had not come back to the dorms and hadn't been seen since early afternoon class. It fell to her to figure out what had happened to them. As she had escorted Hermione and Severus to the Shack, they had come across torn fabric and blood around the Whomping Willow, and one lone Gryffindor tie.

Legitimately concerned, she had Hermione and Severus take Tuft on a run into the woods. Together, Tuft never stepped out of line, and the two Slytherin Animagi were well practised in "herding the wolf" where they needed him to go. Tuft rarely showed any sign of aggression, even allowing visitors to Barberry's garden as long as they didn't enter like a burglar in the night.

With Tuft sufficiently distracted, Minerva was free to enter the shack and see if there had been trouble or if the trio of curfew breaking Gryffindors were holed up in the shack with an irritated werewolf. She sniffed the air, seeing the trail of blood and rodent footprints smeared on the hardwood floor. She padded into the next room, sniffing around, eyes scanning.

She stumbled over a wand on the floor and saw another sitting by the fireplace. Minerva looked upward and saw two frightened pairs of eyes staring down at her from the bookshelves—James Potter and Sirius Black. She wrinkled her nose as the scent of blood seemed stronger, and her eyes saw the detached tail and paw of one unfortunate rodent.

Minerva allowed her human shape to swallow her up. She picked up the two wands from the floor and wrapped the grisly rodent evidence in a small cloth to let the Headmaster know they may have a growing rodent problem.

"You might as well come down, children," Minerva said tartly, gesturing for the two boys to climb down the bookshelves. "I'm sure the Headmaster will be very interested in knowing why the two of you are squatting in his private cottage after curfew and without invitation."

The two Gryffindor, who normally had no lack of things to say on any occasion, held their heads down and said nothing at all. They remained so the entire way back to Hogwarts and after the door of the Headmaster's Office closed behind them.

It wasn't until Minerva returned back to the Gryffindor Dormitories and saw the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff prefects half supporting and half dragging the delirious Peter Pettigrew down the corridor towards the hospital wing that Minerva began to suspect something more than three boys getting into mischief was at play.

Peter Pettigrew was moaning as they limped him along. The two prefects muttered a greeting and informed Minerva they were taking him to the hospital wing because he'd been found in the dormitory, bleeding out on the floor of the boy's dorm.

Minerva turned on her heels to follow them to the hospital, her eyes focusing on why Peter was limping.

Peter Pettigrew's left foot was missing, snapped off at the ankle.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Ahhhh!" Peter moaned as Pomfrey and Minerva attempted to wrestle the boy down on the bed. Fellow nurses were cleaning and binding the wounds on his left leg, whispered to themselves in speculation as to what had happened. "Going to change. Going to turn. Going to arrroooooo!" Peter said as he trashed on the bed. "Dumbledore help. Yes. Dumbledore always helps Peter. Good Peter. Good minion. Saving stupid Potter."

"Poppy, is the boy infected?" Minerva asked as Poppy was casting about a hundred diagnostic spells in rapid succession.

"No, Minerva, the bite was clean. It cleaned up and is healing without silver powder or dittany. An infectious werewolf bite will bleed until silver powder and dittany is applied without fail. He's not going to be a werewolf. I've detecting nothing in the scan."

"Thank the Gods," Minerva whispered, still holding down one of Peter's flailing arms.

"There must be something to your hypothesis, Minerva," Poppy confirmed, still in the midst of spell scanning. "The werewolf must be mentally lonely to spread the curse in an attempt to make companions."

"This is not the way I wished to test that theory, Poppy," Minerva said, narrowing avoiding getting socked in the face. She pinned Peter's arm down again with more vigor.

"Understandable," Poppy agreed, finishing her scans. "We can write the journals about it later," she said with a chuckle, dodging the kick from Peter's good foot.

Minerva scoffed. "Damn, this boy is strong. Why are they always so strong when they are delirious?"

"Penny, help me hold the boy down so I can cast the restraints on him," Poppy ordered. "His arms are soaked in blood. We need to get the bandages off his arms and clean his wounds so nothing gets infected."

The group of them assisted until Poppy managed to get the restraints in place and then she shooed her assistants off to tend the other patients. Poppy wiped the sweat from her brow and drew the bowl of antiseptic water towards her, dipping a soft cloth into it. She unbound the blood-soaked bandages around his arm and began to clean the blood off.

"Holy Mother of Merlin," Poppy exclaimed, practically knocking the table stand over.

Minerva looked to where Poppy was staring, the cleaning cloth frozen over the boy's arm where she had been cleaning it.

The ugly black serpent jutted from a screaming skull's mouth-the Dark Mark.

Minerva balked, almost dropping the roll of clean bandages in her hand to the floor. "Good gracious," she said. "That's…"

Poppy exchanged glances with Minerva and they hurriedly cleaned the boy's arms and re-dressed them, including the arm with the Dark Mark.

"We'll have to deal with this later, Poppy," Minerva said. "I have to go back to Albus' office and pick up the two boys from my House who were squatting in the house outside Hogsmeade."

"They got past the willow?" Poppy asked.

"Barely," Minerva said. "Half of their school uniform is still scraped off on the tree and they look like they took a tumble onto the Quidditch pitch."

"I'll take care of this, Minerva," Poppy said, sighing with relief. "Now that's he's restrained, I can do the rest. Go take care of your House."

Minerva nodded. "Thank you, Poppy. I'll be back later and we can talk."

Poppy nodded, shooing her off.

Minerva turned on her heels, washed her hands at the nearby sink, and then rushed out of the hospital wing towards the Headmaster's Office.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time Minerva had returned to the Headmaster's Office, escorted the two unnerved looking young wizards back to the dormitories, and finished up the paperwork that had been waiting for her since the beginning of the night, she was ready to crawl into bed. She decided to make one last trek to the Hospital wing to check on one Peter Pettigrew-the boy who had a lot of explaining to do.

Albus had already gotten wind that something might have happened thanks to Sirius and James frantically asking him if Peter was alright. The only thing that had kept them from running out to look for him themselves was the Headmaster's promise that he would personally look for Peter and make sure he was "all right."

Minerva bumped into Albus as she sleepily shuffled back towards the Hospital Wing.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall," Albus greeted as he exited the hospital wing. "Done with rounds?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Minerva said. "Just coming to have the customary after rounds tea with Poppy."

"Ah, good, good," Albus muttered. "Try not to stay up too late clucking it up."

Minerva shook her head. "We may be old hens, Headmaster, but we treasure our sleep as well."

Albus chuckled. "Indeed, indeed," he said with a nod, waving her off as he continued down the hall, stroking his beard as he went.

As Minerva continued into the hospital wing, she cast a glance towards the bed Peter had been in. The boy was sleeping peacefully now, somewhat mummified by clean bandages in various places.

"Ah, Minerva, good to see you," Poppy greeted. "How have you been?"

Minerva arched a brow. It hadn't been that long since she saw her. "Good, Poppy. I finished all the paperwork that needed to be done. I figured I would stop by and we could discuss the matter of Peter Pettigrew."

"Oh, no worries, Minerva," Poppy said with a smile. "The Headmaster cleared everything up with me. It was a complete shock to me that the Muggles would allow their circus bear to roam free in our forests. The boy was asking for it being out there without permission, but to be mauled by a bear? How horrible."

Minerva stared at her friend of untold years with confusion, her mind slowly putting together the pieces. "A bear, of course," Minerva said in smooth recovery. "Who would have thought?"

"I would never have guessed," Poppy said with a nod. "I made an appointment for him to meet with a specialist at St. Mungo's to have a prosthetic foot made for him. Such a tragedy so young, yes?"

"Indeed," Minerva replied, realising that her friend had absolutely no recollection of what had really happened when Peter had been brought in. "I hope you will forgive me, Poppy, but I think I'm going to call it early and sleep tonight instead of having our customary tea."

"No problem at all, Minerva," Poppy said with a nod. "Come back anytime."

"Good night, my friend," Minerva said, turning and fleeing out of the Hospital Wing with all due haste.

As Minerva hurried back to her chambers, she knew she would have to wake up Master Barberry and speak with him while the memories of the night were still fresh in her mind. Someone had wiped Poppy's memories completely clean of Peter Pettigrew's real reason for being in the Hospital Wing, and the last person to be there was none other than Albus Dumbledore. She had to make sure that she kept a copy of her memories stored in a safe place and that Master Bayberry knew what she did so their combined Apprentices would be safe.

She had always been ready and prepared, but never had she thought she would have to be prepared against the Headmaster of Hogwarts. What in Merlin's name was going on?

As Minerva closed the door to her chambers, she let out a sigh of relief as the wards to her room settled in with a familiar presence. One step at a time, she thought to herself. She wasn't going to be useful to anyone as a nervous wreck.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** If you remember from previous chapters, in my take on the universe anyway, lycanthropy is transmitted from a feral werewolf with no pack. It is the werewolf's soul-felt loneliness that drives the werewolf to bite and create others of their kind, so they may not feel alone. Tuft has a pack. His drive is to protect his pack, not create others (not even subconsciously.) While Tuft's response to Peter was violent, it was not some deep seeded need to have company. Tuft would not want an interloper to join his pack. If anything, Tuft will want to take Peter out because of the offense on his territory… an offense that James and Sirius had been forgiven up until the point when Peter touched his "pack's things."

Alas, my lovelies, my posting schedule is going to be eclectic due to my busy May/June-mester classes. I have a lot of writing to do for a grade, and that leaves little for my stories. I have no abandoned the story, my friends, I just have a severe case of real life. Thank you all for your understanding and support during this hectic time.


	29. In For a Penny, Out For a Pound

**A/N: **Thanks, HannahKathleen. Fixed!

**A/N: **Summer vacation may be a time for rest for normal people, but for the life of me, I haven't had much of it. Been in a bit of a writing rut due to "all the things." Sorry, folks!

My beta is currently on vacation (and she deserves it!), so all the mistakes found within are my own. I am posting it now so all of those of you who have been waiting do not have to wait anymore. I will post the revised and shinier version after my poor beta recovers from her vacation.

School has started up again for me, so posting schedule will be, yet again, few and far between. I will post as I can, my dear readers, but I have no intention of abandoning the story. Sometimes, inspiration strikes when I have a hundred more things I should be doing. I'm sure you all know how that goes.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

**Chapter 29: In For a Penny, Out For a Pound**

**-o-o-o-o-**

_**Tampered Foods Discovered in Durmstrang and Beauxbatons**_

_Hogwarts was not the only school for wizards and witches that has been plagued with strange cases of tampered food. In the case of L'académie de Magie de Beauxbatons in France, witches' cosmetics have been laced with some sort of odd potion that brings out the worst personality traits in all who are exposed to it._

_The current medical staff at the French school has confirmed the base of Malevolent Mixture that has been customised in a manner to be far more insidious than previous incarnations of the concoction. Even more troubling seems to be the timing of the outbreak, which occurred days before a Muggle festival was to be held just outside the magical school's boundaries. The festival, which has been a draw for both Wizarding and Muggles alike, has never been a time for violence of bigotry, yet, after being dosed with the mixture, quite a few normally well mannered students began to engage is very uncharacteristic violence and plots against their Muggle neighbours. The Headmistress and staff, which have enjoyed countless years of tight relationships of trust with the students, noticed the changes almost instantly and had the students taken to the hospital for diagnostics. Thanks to quick work, the antidote was quickly spread to the infected before any damage could be done, and word was sent out to their fellow magical schools to warn them of the possible problems._

_Durmstrang Institute, which had very suddenly had outbreaks of student violence, had their students taken to see healers, and the school has confirmed that their warming cloaks had been laced with Malevolent Mixture powder._

_Durmstrang's High Master has locked down the school from any and all imports until the source of the tampering was identified and stopped. This has, unfortunately, put a stop to a very lucrative commodity trade between Durmstrang and its fellow magical schools until the danger is found and eradicated._

_Both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons has attempted to parlay with Headmaster Dumbledore at our very own Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and demand why, if he knew about the mixture's effects on students, why they had not been informed, even as a courtesy gesture, as to the possible danger._

_Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has placated the masses of those entrusting their children to Hogwarts, stating that, "We had no reason to believe that the tampering was anything but a misguided school prank that got out of hand. Once we dealt with it, there were no further incidents, and I felt there was no reason to be an alarmist to our dear allies and friends of our neighbouring magical schools."_

_Rumours are on the rise that the Headmaster is holding back information on the dangers rising against our children in their very own school, but while there are those who seem to be waving warning flags, there are still quite a few, such as Albus Dumbledore, that believe the danger was never anything that required raising the alarm to its sister and brother schools._

_An anonymous source has told us that Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged to meet with the fellow heads of the magical schools to discuss the lack of communication. Our attempts to confirm this with the Headmaster have been met with silence._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus panted heavily as he flopped down by the shore of the babbling stream. Romping was the sort of thing they did not get to do very often during full moons. While Minerva had made sure they had better accommodations in the Shack and had even enchanted the ceilings and walls to mirror the forest, there wasn't as much room to romp like a full blown chase through the fields and woods.

After tearing out from under the Whomping Willow, Tuft had been in full form, alternating between being chased and chasing either Hermione or Severus through the forest, and a few times they had even run into a few centaur on their nightly patrols. The centaur, both far too massive to fear werewolves and too intelligent to panic when seeing one, had identified the trio and went about their business. Tuft had always seemed to consider them part of the group package of his territory, much like sharing his territory with birds or some other species, and did not show any aggression to them.

Severus was fairly certain that Tuft's bond to "his Pack" was far more significant in his behaviour and stability than they had originally guessed. Tuft was, without the potion, able to make sound decisions, remain peaceful, and differentiate between friend and foe with little difficulty. They had even run, quite by accident, into a young witch walking with her mother outside Hogsmeade. The trio had run through at full tilt, chasing each other so intently that they had not even realised where they were. By the time Severus had realised where they had been and that they had just passed two very human and vulnerable "targets" it had been too late. Tuft, however, hadn't seemed to care. Humans, as long as they weren't threatening his den and pack-mates, might as well have been centaur or a visiting swan.

Severus realised that despite the fact he found himself in a pack with a werewolf at an early age, he knew very little about how werewolves were "supposed to be." Severus had already read many of the non-restricted books on werewolves in the library in an effort to get to know his friend. The books, however, seemed terribly misguided when it came to describing the mentality of a werewolf. Short of the physical description, anyway, all the books pointed to a mindless slavering beast that couldn't reason.

Tuft, even in the first days, had been reasonable in his own way. The growing werewolf had always been extremely playful in regards to his friends, and only recently had Severus seen the more developed drive to protect in combination with the more typical playful banter. Even so, Severus wasn't sure if it was there to begin with and just didn't have the right stimuli, or if it was something developing in the brain of a maturing werewolf. Tuft was, undoubtedly, growing into his body, and perhaps Hermione and Severus were too, much like their human forms. Growing or not, Tuft was a huge and magnificent specimen of a wolf, and if his wolf form grew with Remus, he was only going to become larger and more intimidating. He radiated health, his eyes were bright with intelligence, and if drool was an indicator of werewolf homoeostasis, well, Tuft was the picture of perfection.

After several hours of nonstop gallivanting across the moors, they had paused at last at a spring to quench their thirst, and the three wolves lapped eagerly at the chilled water, taking great relief in the pleasure of the cooling liquid across their heated tongues. While flying was still the song in his heart, Severus admitted that for at least the three nights a month when their Animagus forms shifted to join Tuft in wolfishness, he was content as long as Hermione and Remus were there to share it with him. There was something almost tangibly comforting about the bond between them, and with every night they shared, it seemed to only grow stronger.

There were times when, even with the full moon was far away, that emotions and feelings would move between them. He would see Tuft's consciousness rise in Remus through the change in eye colour, but each time it happened, there was a warm feeling that was much like a physical touch. It was companionship and warmth, and while there was never a sense of English about it, there were bursts of emotion, need, question, scents, or comfort through the growing awareness. Sometimes there would be pictures in the mind accompanied by sounds and scents. Each time it happened, the three of them would look at each other in startled surprise and then grin as though chuckling over an inside joke. What was even more amazing was that sometimes they would get a sense of Professor McGonagall curled up somewhere in a sunbeam or trotting down the hallway on her rounds as well as Master Barberry singing away on a tree branch just before beating the everliving daylights out of a robin interloper that dared to "invade his garden." Whatever it was that had formed between them, it was strongest between Remus, Hermione, and Severus, but it also included their Masters, almost as if the bond recognised how important the two Masters were in their lives.

Whatever strange magic that was weaving itself around them, it seemed like a living thing. It was both dynamic and strong, yielding and flexible, and above all, vibrant and filled with the song of Life that flowed above and below the surface of the Earth. Thinking about it kept Severus' mind busy, and he found that is was a good kind of busy. There was a time, not so long ago, that when his mind was busy, it thought of the darker things: hatred for his father, desire for escape from the brand of his father's name, the need for retribution, the delicate formation of words to create curses, and contemplation of magic that would serve to free him from the chains of his family's failure at so many things.

All of those thoughts, however, seemed so distant, and it was not, as he had first presumed, because of Lily. Somehow, his first and whom he had thought would be the only one that could look upon him with a shred of kindness was not the focus of his life anymore. And, instead of feeling bitter or denied something intrinsic to his life, he felt that they were drifting apart in the pursuit of different interests. Lily was devoted to her cohorts in all things for the modern witch, and he—he and whom could arguable be considered his best friends, were apprenticed together under the same Masters.

Despite Professor McGonagall's being blatantly Gryffindor (and a handful of those such as Avery and Mulciber thinking that made her defective in some way from the start despite the general high regard for her even amongst the Slytherin,) she had shown her apprentices nothing but the highest quality of care. She asked of them only reasonable things, such as informing her before they left to keep Remus company during his change, to tell her when they were going out to fly together or out to see the Centaurs. She asked for obedience to her wishes when she did give an order or an assignment, and the smoothness in which she both cared and demanded strict attendance kept them even more loyal. Yet, she never failed to look out for them, both tending to their school and apprenticeship needs as well as moral support when needed.

Severus admired her, though part of him knew it was very un-Slytherin to admit such things to her face. Instead, he made up for it by giving her the utmost respect of her station. He did his best to treat her like the parent he wished he could have had. He noticed that Remus, too, seemed to find something in Professor McGonagall as well as Master Barberry that he did not have at home: acceptance.

Perhaps that acceptance was the magic that had opened so many doors for both himself and Remus. He knew it wasn't just his new Masters that made it so. One bushy black-haired witch had brought them all together, and through her Severus had gained his wings (or four legs and a tail, respectively,) and Remus had gained peace with his wolf in a manner that set him apart from so many of his werewolf brethren.

Hermione yawned toothily into his face, tongue lolling, and she slurped Severus across the muzzle before flopping against him, using him as a wolfy couch. Tuft seemed to think she was onto something and proceeded to flop against her.

Severus wondered if age had anything to do with Tuft's playful and highly malleable personality. All the published researched all pointed to vicious killing machines that lived to bite, infect, or kill others. It was clear that Tuft had other ideas, so that threw most of the research to the side. Still, some of it had to be true, if only he could figure out what it was. Then again, he thought as Tuft slobbered on his ears, sometimes it was better to make real life observations rather than rely on the research of some other random wizard. He did wish that it wasn't so… slobbery.

When Master Barberry materialised out on the hilltop with Minerva in close attendance, Severus knew something had happened that was serious. They were both in their human forms, and Tuft was still in control. The werewolf's amber eyes watched them approach, but his tail was beating against the ground in recognition. The werewolf approached like a young pup, belly to the ground, tail tucked, and tongue lapping at whatever skin he could lick.

Their Masters were, apparently in the werewolf's brain, the boss of him. They were the parental figures of his pack, and respect was given regardless of form. Being able to approach a werewolf in a human form, by all accounts in the books, would have been suicidal, but Tuft had set his "mark" upon his Pack, and once done, he recognised them regardless of what shape they wore. Severus was pretty sure it was a significant sort of revelation, but he was thankful that he wasn't trying to write a paper on it.

Master Barberry was examining Tuft in between being slurped under the chin, and Professor McGonagall was examining Hermione, who was passed out, lying on her side after the night's romp. Severus, knowing he was stuck in wolf form while Tuft was in residence, wagged his tail at the Transfiguration professor.

Hermione opened one eye as McGonagall patted her down, checking for any wounds, and the phoenix in wolf's clothing yawned with a soft whine, showing all of her teeth in a lazy fit of exhaustion. Minerva switched over to pat Severus down, and he snuffled under her chin with his wet nose and lupine whiskers with a complacent woof.

Both Masters seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and Tuft bowled over Master Barberry and lay on top of his chest, panting contentedly, showing his teeth in mock threat every time Barberry stopped rubbing his ears. After Barberry indulged him for a time, he had enough of being on his back, and cupped his hand over Tuft's muzzle and sat up. Tuft rolled over with a whine, tail tucked, and rolled over and pounced on Severus. The two tumbled, growled, gnawed on each other, and generally made hay until some unseen signal seemed to happen. Both of them flopped in a heap shortly after and panted together, tongue lolling and saliva dripping. Tuft won the drooling contest, as usual.

The tension in the two Masters ebbed, and they seemed content to wait around for Remus to make his comeback. Tuft was licking Hermione's nose, and she sneezed in Tuft's face. Tuft sat down, looking confused as Hermione's tail wagged against the ground in amusement. Tuft yawned, shook his head, and then whined softly. His eyes shifted back into Remus' normal emerald and his muzzle lengthened into a wolf's normal size. Remus shook himself from nose to tail-tip with a yawning whine as Hermione and Severus reverted into their more compact bird-forms.

"I am glad you are okay, children," Master Barberry said softly, relief in both his tone and posture. "I fear we have a very important series of lessons we need to teach you starting as soon as we are all fed and washed up, and we will be leaving for my manor directly."

Remus, Severus, and Hermione popped back into human form and bowed their heads in acknowledgement.

"Shall we get our things from the dormitories?" Severus asked.

Master Barberry shook his head. "No," he replied. "I will explain more once we are under my roof, and we must make the trek out of the Anti-Apparate Jinx."

The trio nodded, spurred on by their Masters' contagious concern.

"Master," Hermione interjected. "If it will help, I can carry Remus and Professor McGonagall. If time is a concern, that is. Since both Severus and you can fly."

Barberry shook his head again. "No, children. We cannot risk being seen in the air." He looked towards Hogwarts and saw a phoenix circling one of the parapets. "Come, we must go. Quickly now."

They travelled together in unison and in silence.

Hermione, unable to take it anymore, asked, "Master, can we not use our port-key you made us?"

"Normally, I would say yes, child, but not this time," Master Barberry explained.

The trio exchanged worried glances at the enforced subterfuge.

Accepting that their Masters knew best, they concentrating on where their feet were going as they hurried through the woods.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"He was attacked by a what?" Sirius yelled.

"An escaped circus bear," James said.

"Bullshit," Sirius exclaimed.

James shook his hands out in front of him. "That's what Madam Pomfrey said. She said it with a completely straight face, mate."

"He survives being attacked by giant wolf and gets mauled… by a bear?" Sirius sputtered. "Only Peter could get that unlucky."

James pinched his nose and then slapped himself in the face as he attempted to remember something. "He's always had this crazy ideas, ya know? Adventure! Exploration! Then this happens."

Sirius frowned. "Something wasn't right last night, mate."

James looked up. "How so?"

"We almost always sneak out under the invisibility cloak," Sirius said. "Last night, he told us we didn't have time. Time for what? To be attacked by a bear?"

"You can't possibly think he meant to lead us to a mysterious house that had a dangerous trained animal in it?" James grunted.

"I'm saying it's awful convenient, James," Sirius said, "and if anything being raised as a Black has taught me, convenience is only an opportunity someone else snatched up before you."

James raised a brow. "That's an awful way of looking at something that could be random."

Sirius make a short whistle between his teeth. "I'm a Black. I was raised as the head doomsayer of my family. Usually, I was the cause of doom for my family," he admitted somewhat grimly.

"You're awfully cheerful for a doomsayer.

Sirius gave him a lopsided grin. Suddenly, however, his cheer changed into something far more serious. "My sis has been trying to tell me something was wrong for months, James. I just didn't want to think that either you or Peter could be capable of… anything like that."

"Wait, she thought I?" James butted in.

Sirius gave him a glare. "You buried my sister in sand. She has a very long memory. Slytherins carry long memories. Blacks carry even longer memories."

James, seemingly realising exactly the extent of the hole he had dug himself into without his conscious awareness, sighed. "Do you think a letter from my parents to your parents explaining I was drugged will convince her to give me chance to prove myself… less of a—"

"Arse-faced git?" Sirius recommended.

James grunted. "Yeah."

"This is my sister, James," Sirius said with a shake of his head. "Actions speak louder than words. The only time writing appeals to her more is when she's reading the newest annals of Arithmancy and the Journal of Transfiguration. I'm in the doghouse as it is, and I'm her brother."

"Well she does call you Canis, Mr Dogstar," James replied.

"Shut it," Sirius glowered. "It's bad enough that the last time I pissed her off, she transfigured my bedroom into a giant dog house with my name plaque above the entrance shaped like a bone."

James busted out laughing hysterically.

"I hate you," Sirius said, his eyebrow twitching.

"Aw, I can get you some flea dip, mate," James jested.

Sirius looked prone to murder.

James waved his hands. "Okay, okay. It's just… I can't imagine you sleeping in a room shaped like a doghouse."

"Whatever spell she used was so strong, I think she tied it into the ley lines that went through the house. Only she could remove it, and for some reason, my father and my mother seemed to think it was perfectly bloody proper. I woke up in the morning and Hermione's friends, you know, Severus and Remus were staring at me from the hallway looking like I had committed some crime worse than kissing some girl without being in a courtship. Then, my stupid menace of a younger brother clicked a camera, and the photograph is now framed over my father's favourite fireplace mantle next to the photo of Denebola, our Kneazle."

James blinked. "I can't believe I… do you think she'll hate me forever?"

Sirius gave James a cruel smile that was worthy of a Slytherin and a Black. "She doesn't hate, mate. She mets out justice. Trust me. You will get exactly what you deserve. It may not be today, tomorrow, or next week, but it will happen, and you will know it when it does."

James swallowed hard.

"See this mark here?" Sirius said, pulling up his sleeve.

James looked closer. "Your dog tattoo? What about it? I thought you got that to piss off your parents."

"Every time I've lied to her since I was four, the tattoo gets more and more detailed and more elaborate. It started out as just a paw print. They started to spread around my arm like a ring, and the last time I did it, the detailed dog head showed up along with another paw print. She knows exactly when I lied to her. She just checks my arm for more detail. Hell, my entire family does. They ask a question then pull up my sleeve and count paw prints."

James looked at Sirius with rediscovered fear.

"She did it with accidental magic when she was four when I lied to her about eating the last cookie Kreacher left for her," Sirius said grimly. "Imagine what she can do when she means it."

"You saying she didn't mean to do that then? James asked.

Sirius' lips curved up in a smirk. "Oh, she meant it. At least the dog's tail and ears she gave me wore off after a month."

"I'm starting to be glad I was born an only child," James said with a hard swallow. "Sisters are scary."

"I wouldn't trade her for the universe," Sirius said with a sombre expression. "She's taken the brunt of the responsibility of the family for my sake. Ever wonder why I can get away with being such a improper Pure-blooded git and not get blasted off my family tree? It's because of her. She protects me. She protects Regulus, and I… I have failed to believe her when she needed me to the most." Sirius wore a pained expression. "I'm a horrible git of a brother."

James shook his head. "Let's make it up to her together, Sirius." He looked at Sirius with an uncharacteristically sombre expression. "It's time we both got to the bottom why Peter always seems find trouble for us to go investigate and then gets us in trouble."

Sirius nodded and then his eyes lit up with a strange fire James had never seen before.

"What? You have that look, Sirius," James said.

Sirius' corner of his mouth quirked upward sharply. "What if we made a map that could track him wherever he went in Hogwarts?"

James stared at him. "Brilliant! I'm in!"

Sirius smiled. "Excellent."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The apprenticed trio had become young heroes to the local werewolf population, and never had it become more clear as when a number of piles of correspondence scrolls and thank you gifts lay between them. They sat in the middle of Master Barberry's large sitting room looking over the writings and parcels. Some of them were filled with candies like chocolates, which Remus snatched with zealous enthusiasm, and some were filled with homemade baked goods with stasis charms put on them the moment they left the oven.

Minerva used the moment as a teaching opportunity, and taught her charges how to cast spells over the parcels to make sure nothing bad was in the parcels before they opened them. Every package was examined in triplicate with Minerva and Gilford looking them over after just to be sure. Out of hundreds of grateful packages, only three had angry protests that their potion was stealing what made the werewolf superior to humans. The trio frowned at the negative protests, but Barberry consoled them, stating that it was perfectly natural to have nay sayers in every good thing in the world.

Master Barberry had a visitor while the children were sorting through their mail, and it wasn't long after the newcomer had arrived that Gilford introduced them.

"Ah, Damocles, you know Master McGonagall, yes?" Barberry introduced. "These are our Apprentices, Hermione Black, Remus Lupin, and Severus Snape."

"You are the ones that made that lovely potion," the flighty wizard said with bobs of his head. "Wonderful, just wonderful. I have managed to come up with my own version of it, but while it allows the drinker to retain their mind, its use it hampered by timing."

"Ah the Cognisant Wolfsbane Potion," Barberry confirmed, passing the new guest tea. "How does it work when properly administered?"

"It takes a week of drinking the potion every night before the first full moon to work, and, unfortunately, you cannot add anything to make it more palatable to the tongue," Damocles said as he sipped his tea. "Unfortunately, the change is still agonising, the person feels trapped inside the wolf's body with dulled but persistent instincts of the wolf surging through them, and when they change back, they are far from content."

"I'm sorry, Damocles," Barberry comforted. "I know you've been working on that potion for a while now."

"Ach," Damocles tsked. "I did not have the benefit of extra minds, by my own failings. I refused your help in my quest to do it alone. Perhaps, if I had, I would have developed something better much sooner, or perhaps not."

"You're a fine potioneer, Damocles," Barberry said. "You always have been."

The younger wizard waved his hand. "Ah, no need to restore my wounded ego, Master Barberry. My formulae for a few new minor potions and salves have more than soothed my damaged pride," he said with a laugh. "I am more than happy to meet your new apprentices."

"You're Damocles?" Severus asked. "Professor Slughorn mentioned you. He said you were a gifted potioneer."

Damocles shook his hand and smiled. "Horace would have you believe I brew potions in my sleep and dream up new formulae."

"You don't?" Remus asked with a grin.

The younger wizard laughed, brushing back his hair that somehow managed to be both red and gold at the same time. He had a kind smile and an amused warmth to his eyes. "Aye, and I bottle my flatulance because it smells like rain on a spring day, if you would believe Horace."

The children giggled and took turns shaking his hand.

Damocles handed them all a vial of pale blue liquid. There were particles suspended within, giving it the look of glitter. "These are for you until your lessons are complete. It is not as foolproof as being able to hide your thoughts and memories yourself, but it will keep your mind protected by filling it random mental fluff and facts that will make it exceedingly horrific for an Legilimens to read you casually or nonchalantly. As I understand, the lot of you have much to protect from our… mutual acquaintance, and I spent many of my hours after graduation developing this potion specifically because of Legilimens such as our Hogwarts Headmaster."

Barberry and Minerva nodded to the children and they took the vials with a nod of thanks.

"One drop under the tongue," Damocles instructed. "It will last all day. Take it each morning when you wake up. When the vial is almost empty, mix it with pure water and set it under the moon for a night. By morning it will have recreated itself in the vial. The vials are special. My own invention."

The three children looked at him with amazement and excitement.

"Thank you for bringing this," Barberry thanked Damocles. "I wish I could have called upon you for something far less important."

"Nay, Master Barberry," Damocles said. "I spent seven years of my life being read by that man with the twinkling eyes as he pretended to be benign and caring of my well-being. He always 'somehow' knew all my secrets. He always knew where to show up and what time to catch me working extra time in Horace's laboratory. Anything I can do to keep others from falling victim to the man's insidious 'helpfulness' is payment enough."

"I thank you all the same," Barberry said with a smile.

"Remember," Damocles warned, "that you should never look the man in the eyes, for that allows him to get into your head much faster. This potion will not protect you against a direct assault for long. My only hope is that if he or anyone else were to do such a thing, it would give you time to put up proper defences."

The trio nodded to him, clutching their vials with gratitude.

"The Occlumency lessons shall begin in earnest, regardless, after lunch," Barberry said with a smile. "Are you sure there isn't something we can offer to assist you, Damocles? You have given us quite the gift today."

Damocles lowered himself onto the floor with the trio and bit his lip slightly. "I would ask of you one thing, my young potioneers," he said with a worried smile. "My uncle… he was bitten by a werewolf while he walked home from a revel in the woods during a solstice gathering. It was he that inspired my work on the potion to begin with, and it was he that has helped me test my potion on him. He is too proud to stand in line with other werewolves and admit he has a problem, but he is suffering. I would ask of you, for permission to brew the potion for my uncle, not to usurp any deals you may have made with other potioneers that give you your rightful proceeds, but to ease his torment. I learned to be an Animagus under Master Barberry specifically for the purpose to keep him company three nights of the month, and I know his agony haunts him and his wife, who worries for him. I beg you. This is all I would ask of you."

Hermione and Remus nudged Severus in the ribs, causing him to startle. Severus looked up, eyes wide, having forgotten that officially, the last word was his when it came to the potion they had created together.

"Thank you, Damocles," Severus said with a bow of his head. "You have honoured us with your help, and I would give you permission to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for your uncle. I feel that I can speak for all of us safely in the opinion that no one should suffer in their lycanthropy now that they do not have to."

"Blessings upon you, children," Damocles answered, the start of tears forming in his eyes. "You three are very talented, but your hearts are equally well endowed, and I thank you for that."

"Would you like us to show you how we brew them?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Tell you what," Damocles said. "If Master Barberry approves, I will teach you all how to brew the mind shielding potion and how to enchant the potion vials to refill their contents, and then you can teach me how to brew your wonderful potion. Is it a deal?"

The trio stared at their Masters with hopeful eyes.

Barberry and McGonagall nodded in affirmative.

"Excellent," Damocles said, clasping his hands together. "Let's get started!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Knowledge, Severus was starting to find out, was the currency of the learned. Barter in formulae and bits of worldly wisdom went a long way to procure friends and allies amongst the educated Masters, and while Masters Barberry and McGonagall had them keep their secrets close when speaking with other apprentices when it came to highly coveted knowledge, they were highly encouraged to broker deals of knowledge exchange such as they did with Damocles.

Damocles, while not a Potion Master, was a highly respected potioneer in the field, and judging by Master Barberry's interactions with him, the trio knew it was completely acceptable to exchange the currency of learning with him whenever they wished.

Formulae were often exchanged between Masters, but, they were also kept secret and used only for personal use by default. They hadn't realised it at the time, but their bargain with Damocles was considered a test of their good will and willingness to forward the field of potions and the reputation of their combined masters. They had passed with flying colours.

"Why is it that Professor Dumbledore is not one of the Masters on the Board?" Remus had asked as they had dinner with a small group of Masters and Apprentices on Master Barberry's green.

Master Highweather snorted in response in a very unfeminine manner. "Albus Dumbledore was or is, depending on how you see it, a very talented student of magic, but," she explained in between bites of her evening meal, "he is not one who shares knowledge as you have come to see. The sharing and preservation of knowledge and wisdom is much of what we do."

Master Willowbark nodded as he stirred his coffee. "He has always been a man who preferred to hold his secrets close to him and share only what needed to be shared at the very last moment. He would, quite often, ask for an exchange of information to learn from any of our fellow Masters, but after learning our secrets, the information he would share in exchange would be conjecture or vague theory rather than confirmed useful knowledge. He would feign innocence in this, and eventually many of the Masters began to refuse to parley with him. "

"Yes," Master Teaworth added, "and he strangely pulled out of residency and moved on to teach at Hogwarts shortly after, abandoning his pursuit of Mastery for teaching academia, or so he would have you believe."

"I think," Master Greenpetal said with a sniff, "that it was due to that charming young lady that came in to visit him. Ariana, I believe was the young lady's name."

"It was his younger sister, I believe, Marcus," Teaworth said thoughtfully. "She had slipped away from his brother, Aberforth. Poor girl was attacked by Muggles as a girl. She lost control of her magic. It was the death of her mother, a tragic accident, but it was the one thing that Albus believed kept him from being able to seek his true destiny with that young wizard from Durmstrang—Gellert Grindelwald."

"Master, didn't Dumbledore defeat Gellert in a duel?" the young wizard that was sitting beside Teaworth questioned.

"Aye, lad, he did," Teaworth said. "Like all relationships, some become stronger and some fade away. Whatever had bound the two of them together when they were young and foolhardy was not enough. They parted in the most violent of ways, with Gellert being imprisoned in his once fortress of Nurmengard. This was many years after Ariana visited the Master's residencies looking for Albus, however."

"Gellert was ultimately blamed for Ariana's death many years later," Greenpetal noted. "It was all over the Prophet. His descent into the Dark Arts had consumed him, or so they said, so much so that Albus could no longer deny its affect on his friend. It was said that at one time, the pair of them were striving to change the world to where the International Statute of Secrecy would no longer be necessary, but the true reason for their partnership can only be guessed at. Their true desires were apparently not shared between them. Each had their own reason to want the secrecy changed. Ariana, however, seemed to be Dumbledore's and he retreated into teaching after her death, shunning all our attempts to reach out to him after her tragic death."

The rest of the dinner hours were spent discussing more academic subjects, and the trio made some fast friends with the other apprenticed young witches and wizards from the other Masters. Despite the open sharing nature of the dinners, none of them were ignorant that what was discussed at the table was not to be shared outside of those who were there to the initial sharing. The trio used it as an exercise in filing away knowledge in appropriate places, flagging each conversation with the appropriate markers of who, what, when, and where.

Teaworth's apprentice taught the trio how to make a compound that could be used to fill in the cracks in magical items and not interrupt the flow of magic, saying that with all the experiments they would probably be doing as an apprentice, being able to fix the things they broke accidentally was just as important as admitting when things went wrong.

Hermione, in exchange, taught their fellow apprentice how to make the Black Family's calming tea, which she said every member of her family knew how to make by the age of five due to a hereditary proclivity to overreact to anything and everything when the conditions were right. Unlike the calming draught, it was not addictive, save for the appealing taste, and did not knock out the drinker when combined with other potions. It was also perfectly acceptable to drink before taking exams and blended with other drinks, and Hermione had confessed that she had dosed her younger brother, Regulus, with it on a number of nights when he was bouncing off the walls in enthusiasm for some random something by slipping it into his lemonade.

By the time night was falling and it was time for the trio to romp with Tuft, all of the non Animagi had moved to the upper balcony to have tea and conversation and all the other apprentices had been sent home. The trio chased each other through the hedges and flowers. Minerva, getting a mischievous glint in her eyes, chased the trio around the garden, and the three, so ingrained to submit to the elder Animagus, rolled on their backs and exposed their bellies to her. Minerva flopped on top of them like a conquering hero, giving off a smug feline yawn of superiority.

"Never would have believed it if I didn't see it, Gilford," Greenpetal said with a tilt of his head. "I read the documentation, heard the testimonies, and was even there distributing the first of the potions to the public the morning it went out—"

"Not that I'd ever tell anyone and break confidence," Teaworth agreed, "but it's amazing that the boy is so happy now. I only wish I could tell his father and convince him that this is a far better fate for his son than locking him away in a cage in the basement."

"Lyall was always a fanatic about the dangers of werewolves, Sasha," Barberry said. "Trying to convince him that anything other than a complete cure being the right way to go is something we will have to do slowly.

"You say that the other two are not even infected?" Highweather asked, watching Minerva get drooled on.

"Most strange thing," Barberry replied. "The entire lot are Animagi, but for three days of the month, Apprentices Black and Snape both shift into wolves with him. Every other day they are birds."

"Animagi before their third year in school," Teaworth chuckled. "No wonder you pounced on them. I can see now why Minerva is so protective of them. I've never seen her so happy since—"

"The death of her last husband, aye," Greenpetal said with a shake his head. It is good to see her happy again. Inspired."

"I'm glad you and Minerva felt you could trust us with this," Willowbark commented with a soft smile.

"If something odd happens to us," Barberry trailed off.

"We will take care of them, Gilford," Willowbark said, as the other masters nodded their heads in assent.

"But, we will do our best to help ensure that nothing does," Teaworth said. "I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that I would be glad to assist in helping with whatever lessons you think they need to protect their minds and their secrets.

Barberry let out a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear it, my old friends."

There was a splash and all the masters looked out over the terrace and lifted their eyebrows in unison. The three lupine garden rompers had dove into the large garden fountain to cool off and were paddling about in the moonlight.

"I feel like I should have taken you up on those Animagus lessons, Gilford. I'm missing out on something spectacular," Willowbark grunted.

"Never too late, Danon," Barberry laughed at Willowbark.

"Psh," Willowbark muttered, but his smile was warm as he sipped his tea and watched Minerva perched on top of one of the black wolves' heads and used it to bat at the water-logged werewolf.

"Animagi get to have all the fun," Teaworth laughed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Sunday, September 24th, 1972, Waning Gibbous 98%_

Minerva yawned as the early morning sun peaked over the garden. A gentle touch on her shoulder rubbed her muscles, and she let out a soft purr despite herself.

"Good morning, Minerva," Barberry chuckled. "Have a nice evening with the our four-legged apprentices?"

"You should try it, Gilford," McGonagall chuckled.

"Hrm," Barberry answered. "The last time I tried that, there was a very drool-covered robin being carried around in the mouth of a werewolf-who-thinks-he's-a-labrador-retriever."

Minerva grinned. "Tuft likes you."

"I'm fairly certain he likes everyone," Barberry snorted.

"Not everyone," Minerva said solemnly, thinking back to a certain Peter Pettigrew.

"That reminds me, Minerva," Barberry said. "I preserved those memories you gave me, and gave copies to the other masters. If he somehow breaks through your barriers and through the potion or you forget conversations we've had together, we will be able to restore them to you."

Minerva nodded. "Thank you," she said with a grim nod. "Something caused Tuft to attack Peter Pettigrew while he was transformed into a rat, Gilford. Tuft is hardly a violent sort, and we have always been good about feeding Remus well before the shift and leaving food for Tuft so he is not driven by hunger. Something provoked him, and it has something to do with Peter, who is an unregistered Animagus."

"You did the checking in the records then?" Barberry asked.

Minerva gave a curt nod. "There is only one Peter on the list and it is Master Peter Angler, who had the form of a swordfish."

"That must have been amusing at parties," Gilford quipped.

Minerva shoved Barberry on the shoulder with a huff. "I looked for rodents, and the only ones I saw were Master Tian Shan, who had the form of a Ili pika, Samantha Camphor, who took the form of nutria, and Erebor Grainhest, who was a chinchilla. There were a number of bat and squirrel Animagi, but still, no rats."

Barberry raised his brows in surprise. "I'm oddly surprised there were no smaller rodents such as mice.

"Well there was a kangaroo rat," Minerva said with a sigh.

"Hardly the same thing," Barberry chuckled.

A call came out from across the garden, and Barberry waved the visitor in. Three groggy apprentices hurriedly shuffled in from the garden ahead of the guest, having realised they slept through the morning in a lupine and avian pileup, and their masters had let them!

"Come in, come in, Mr Schattenjäger," Barberry called as he waved the wizard in.

"Master Barberry," Schattenjäger greeted. "Call me Klaus, Master Barberry. We've known each other far too long for you to call me by my surname."

"And I have told you to call me Gilford, Klaus," Barberry chuckled. "Come, sit. You remember Master McGonagall?"

"Minerva, please," McGonagall said, extending her hand.

Klaus took her hand, and brought it to his lips in a formal greeting. "You are as beautiful as ever, Minerva," Klaus said with a smile. "Pray, tell me that you have finally accepted my proposal for courtship, that I might make you my queen." He allowed his voice to take on the German accent that he had skillfully hidden earlier.

Minerva flushed and thrust tea into his hands. "Sit, you old charmer, before I hex you."

Klaus laughed. "It has not worked for over three decades, but I still hold out in the hope that you will take me up on it."

Barberry chuckled. "It won't work, old friend. She is determined to refuse us both." Barberry made a gesture of pain, clutching his chest as though to comfort his heart.

"Both of you!" Minerva huffed. "Drink your tea." She blushed furiously, trying to hide her attraction to the two highly skilled and glib of tongue wizards who fancied her.

"Yes, ma'am," the two chimed together with a wink, causing Minerva to roll her eyes.

"I see you received my owl quickly," Barberry said to Schattenjäger.

"Aye, Gilford," Klaus replied. "They sent me because I, too, am an Animagus as well as an Auror and the Registry will take my word on what I find. It is a formality, however, as your word as well as Minerva's is already highly respected."

"We would both prefer an official Auror to look it over," Minerva said. "The situation is… delicate."

Klaus tilted his head. "I gathered from your owl that there is some thought of conspiracy within Hogwarts?"

"I cannot say conspiracy as much as hidden agendas, Klaus," Minerva said. "I worry foremost for our students, and with Poppy conveniently forgetting our conversation only hours before, I am not sure who is involved. I can say, for sure, that Gilford and the other Masters on the Board are not. But, from within Hogwarts, I cannot say, and I cannot risk revealing that I suspect let it get back to the one that is. I cannot risk that something happens to myself or Gilford and leave our apprentices without—"

Klaus touched her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. "Apprentices are like our children, Minerva. I understand. They are, almost, more than just our children. On them, all our hopes and dreams rest with the intimacy of family born of choice."

Minerva smiled at him, patting his hand gently with hers.

Klaus smiled at her and pulled back. "Well, show me the bitten appendages, and we can start there." He pulled out a small crystal from his pocket. He tapped it with his wand and it hovered in mid air. "On this day, Sunday, the 24th of September, One thousand and seventy two, I start this recording of the examination of—" he paused as Minerva put down the bundle with the snapped off rat foot suspended in stasis. "One severed rodent hind foot, apparently large rodent, probably rat as it is far too large for a mouse, and it is not the right shape to be ground or tree squirrel."

Klaus waved his wand over the foot. "Confirmation by diagnostic identifies hind foot as brown rat. Fur is brown until it approaches the foot, where the change is a light blond and white covering pink skin. Claws are encrusted with dirt and plant material, somewhat atypical of a healthy, well-groomed wood-rat. I am now releasing the stasis on the hind foot in order to examine it more closely."

Klaus waved his wand and released the stasis spell over the suspended foot. As he reached to manipulate it, the foot spasmed and convulsed, and in a matter of seconds, had transformed into a human foot.

The Auror stared at it blankly, seemingly gathering his thoughts. "Hind foot of brown rat has, on release of the stasis charm, reverted into a human foot. Confirmed transfiguration. Whether by choice or duress is unknown." He waved his wand. "Confirmed trace points to Animagus. Forced transfiguration would have a different signature.

"The foot is from a human male with no evidence of hybrid features. Age is approximately twelve to fourteen and under the influence of some sort of potion of undetermined origin. Potion is nothing standard known by Aurors. Master Barberry, could you lend your assistance in analysis?"

Barberry nodded. "Of course. I could run quite a few spell scans, but, with your permission, could I obtain a sample of the blood?"

Schattenjäger nodded. "Please do."

Barberry took a small collection rod from a pouch in his robe and swabbed the foot of the blood. He blinked as he looked closer. "Something is caught in between the toes, Klaus. It was covered in the dirt and blood."

Klaus frowned and looked closer, summoning a light to look closer at the disembodied foot. He eyed the skin with clinical detachment. "A ring?" he stated. "It looks like a… this ring is attached, Gilford. It's a toe ring." The Auror stared, frowning. He stared at the blood-soaked band. He waved his wand over it, saying a chain or words in German.

"A ring is around the fourth toe of the foot," Klaus stated. "It appears to be crafted of horn or perhaps tightly bound hair. Highly infused with magical purpose. The magic appears to be tuned to a specific person or animal. It seems to be a protective shield of some sort. Possibly, no confirmed to be a mental ward."

Barberry and McGonagall frowned in unison. Klaus looked up at them with a concerned look on his face.

"_Es knistert im Gebälk_," Klaus muttered. "This is troubling, my friends. The nature of this ring is to shield the mind from whose hair went into the making. It is a very deliberate charm. Blood magic was used to bind it to this body." He pointed to the disembodied foot. "Since it is no longer attached, however, it allowed the ring to be removed. It would not have come loose otherwise."

Minerva peered at the formed ring with concern. "Is there a way to figure out who it meant to protect against?"

"_Ja_," the Auror replied grimly. "It will take some time to layer the spells correctly…"

"We will leave you to it, old friend," Barberry said with a nod. "In the meantime, I will analyse this blood sample as you requested."

"_Danke_," Klaus said with a nod, taking a swig of the tea near him.

Minerva and Gilford nodded simultaneously and exited the room, leaving the Auror to his work.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"It's ingenious," Klaus said with an oddly respectful tone. "I've never seen such a complex use of charms mixed with Dark magic."

"Are you sure it's specifically against… Albus?" Minerva asked, wringing her hands reflexively.

"_Ja_, old friend," Klaus said grimly. "It is his hair that went into the ring's making. It was, however, someone else's blood that combined with it."

"Blood magic?" Minerva flinched.

"Very dark Magic," Klaus said. "It was concealed when it bonded to the skin of the toe. Very clever. Subtle. These are like relics of the Old Wars. The wars when wizards fought wizards out on the streets like dogs and raped each other's minds with no other reason than gaining the upper advantage. Back then, it was considered worth it to kill an innocent to protect yourself against someone else. Those were very dark times."

"How is it that I do not recall more of such things, Klaus?" Minerva asked.

"Rumour said," Klaus replied, "that the English Ministry back then could do only one thing to bring peace back to the people."

"Make it disappear," Gilford said with a scowl.

"Exactly." Schattenjäger drew his fingers across his dark beard. "It was methodical. Once the main powers in play were destroyed, history was changed. Magic was 'rewritten.' It was why the Aurors were created. Back then, Aurors were specially trained hunting hounds. We were justicars, zealots, and assassins of kings. Today, Oblivators are very specialised and are not always Aurors. Back then, they were one the same."

"The reason why the Dark magic of today does not include as much blood magic is that the elder Aurors used to Obliviate all knowledge of such things out of the minds of Dark wizards," Schattenjäger continued. "Few escaped. The wizards back then were all solitary, trusting or confiding in no one. Knowledge was not written down or shared. Apprentices were rarely taken. Hunting them down and eliminating it was… easier. Peace prospered, Aurors were no longer needed for the purposes they were, and we became what we are today."

"Yet, some of this magical knowledge must have been written down or passed on?" Minerva commented. "How else would we see this now?"

"Rumours once said the great hidden library of Salazar Slytherin once held the vast knowledge of his time," Gilford said, rubbing his ear with his fingers. "Riots from the Muggles burned his library to the ground, but it is said he escaped with a few precious tomes and squirrelled them away in some secret place known only to him."

"The Chamber of Secrets," Minerva whispered.

"Aye, that is the rumour, Minerva," Gilford replied.

"Your Chamber may be a rumour at Hogwarts," Klaus said thoughtfully, "but it may have been far more real than you think. The magic used to create this ring was from the time of the Founders."

"The Dark Ages," Gilford sighed.

The German Auror sniffed. "Indeed, and whoever found the way to craft this ring, my friends, probably knows even darker magic of blood and souls. What, however, I cannot say for certain."

Minerva and Gilford exchanged glances.

"Tell me, Gilford," Klaus said. "What did your blood sample tell you?"

"The blood was laced in an age affecting potion," Gilford said. "It's bound to the blood. It would gradually wear off after a few months as the blood naturally replenishes. It was an old recipe that Master Elderthorn created at the turn of the century to add one drop to his cosmetics line for witches to 'retain their youthful appearance'. It was discontinued when they found out mixing it with other potions such as a blood replenisher potion affected the mind and made you revert to the mind of child randomly. They had hundreds of witches who had been treated at Mungos start acting like babbling children. Some of them had reverted mentally to the age of five and were crying for their parents. They remembered nothing of their adult lives for hours or days, sometimes months at a time."

Minerva and Klaus stared at Gilford with some horror.

"One of those unforeseen side-effects," Gilford said with a shrug.

Minerva seemed to think of something. "Wait, Gilford," she whispered. "If the person whose foot this is was truly Peter Pettigrew, then the blood replenishers Poppy gave him may have—"

"He may never be right in the head again, Minerva," Barberry said grimly.

Klaus looked concerned. "Do we have any data on how it would affect an Animagus?"

Gilford's eyes widened in thought. "I don't imagine it would go well, but I could not even begin to speculate. The balance of the human mind over the animal instinct could dissolve."

"Either way, dear Minerva," Klaus commented. "You will know for certain if this Peter Pettigrew was truly your Animagus in question."

Minerva's face looked grim. "And then we are left with a hundred new questions in the wake."

"Like why your Headmaster Oblivated the memory of Peter Pettigrew's injuries from your mind during your meeting," Gilford said. "You were wise to send your memories to me before the meeting. When you had no memory of the incident when I contacted you in the morning, I knew you had been right to do so."

"I trusted Albus," Minerva said, her fingers clenched. "I have always trusted Albus until… I cannot believe he would Oblivate me! Well, I can _now_. The others warned me that there was something off about him, an agenda, or hidden goal, but I stood up for him. He's the one who suggested I train under you, Gilford!"

"We have other worries we need to concern ourself with, regardless," Barberry said with a grimace. "We must protect our own. Now more than ever. We must start hording our memories in secret in the case they are wiped, but we must also do our best to see that we are not wiped to begin with."

"If I may, old friend," Klaus interrupted, tapping his finger to his temple. "My family has always been good at preventative paranoia. It is why I became an Auror. I shall help you, if you wish it."

"I will not turn down an ally and friend, Klaus," Barberry said with a smile. "You know that."

Schattenjäger grinned. "I was hoping you would say that. We shall make them the most paranoid and well prepared apprentices this side of the ocean."

Minerva snorted. "I will speak with Lord Black and give him a courtesy conference. Severus' mother has already signed the paperwork giving us the right of proxy. The Lupin's have done the same for Remus. Lord and Lady Black have expressed trust in us, but I would prefer they were in the know. It would not behove us to leave the Black family in the dark."

"No it would not," Barberry agreed. "And it will be a cold day in the inferno the day any Black denies their child the opportunity to learn more ways in which to protect themselves."

Minerva laughed. "True."

"Well then," Barberry said. "I'll leave it to you, Minerva. Let's bring in the children after to meet Klaus. I am sure they are bustling with curiosity now that we've banished them to do all of their homework for Hogwarts before the 'real' work can be done."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Peter Pettigrew woke in the bed he was lying in in a cold sweat, giving a yell of terror.

"Hey, it's okay!" a female voice soothed beside him.

Peter looked around frantically.

A curly-haired witch with flaming red locks looked at him cheerfully. "You've had a rough night, Peter."

"Wuh… Where am I?"

"Hospital wing," the girl answered. "Madam Pomfrey took good care of you. I'm sorry about the bear, Peter. I had no idea there were bears out in the Forbidden Forest."

"In my dream it was the wolf," Peter said fearfully. "In my dream, I made it angry on purpose."

"Why would you do that, Peter? The girl frowned.

"I don't remember," Peter said, clutching his head. "I don't remember… You're Lily right?"

Lily nodded with concern.

"I remember you, but, I can't remember—eugh," he moaned. "My leg."

Lily looked even more concerned. "I'm afraid there wasn't much they could do. Madam Pomfrey had some connections over at St Mungos come over and fit a prosthetic. It's much better than the ones you see in the Muggle world. It's not at all a peg leg like you see in pirate stories."

Peter looked down at his leg, and his face changed into a look of despair. "It was real. It was… the wolf. It took my foot."

"It was a bear, Peter," Lily said. "Frankly, I'm not sure why they don't fence off the forest like the Muggles do if it's so dangerous. Headmaster Dumbledore said it was escaped circus bear according to the reports, so it was kind of a freak accident. Still, you really shouldn't have been back there. James and Sirius told me that you guys were exploring after curfew. The professors told us never to go out there!"

"I was—" Peter trailed off. "I wasn't in a forest? I was in a room or a room that looked like a forest."

Lily gave him an odd look.

Peter looked confused. "I… the mission? James is safe?"

Lily looked at him strangely. "The arrogant git is fine, Peter. He's like he always is."

Peter looked relieved and confused at the same time. "Good, can't have him friend the wolf. The wolf must be alone. Suffer alone." The boy winced in pain and passed out again.

"Poor thing," Lily patted his arm as she sat her vigil over him. "That must be one really confusing nightmare."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Regulus,_

_I am happy you are settling into your routine at Hogwarts, my son. It brings me great joy to know you are making us proud at the school._

_I wouldn't worry too much about your sister, my son. She is quite busy with her apprenticeship, and from what I have learnt from both of her Masters, she will have a very busy time ahead of her, indeed. It is work befitting a Black, and perhaps, if you can make her life somewhat easier in her busy work, she may teach you a thing or two. Do not be disappointed if she refuses you, my son. There are some things that must remain between the Master and the Apprentice, and that is a covenant that cannot be betrayed, lest all of what we stand for as Blacks be lost. Do not pressure her or guilt her if she refuses you. Trust that what she will be willing to teach you, you will be ready for and that she able to do so without betraying her Masters._

_That being said, beware of those all too eager to teach you seemingly rare or coveted knowledge, for what they are enticing you with may seem grand, but the price may come at a time much later when guilt will pressure you to do things you do not wish to do._

_This Avery and Mulciber you speak of seem to offer things with honeyed tongues and no strings, but I can almost guarantee you the strings are there. Be wary. You have been wise to seek my counsel in this, and you have been wise as well to pay attention to those friends which your sister has introduced to you personally. This is far safer than putting your trust in those who seem… too good to be true. You say they offer you power and influence, but I will tell you now, my son, that power and influence come from hard work on your part. Anyone who offers it like an entitlement is lying to you. Any who can seemingly conjure it from thin air, has their hands in the cookie jar and have already stolen the sweetest morsels for themselves._

_All the influence that our family has came from hard work and many discussions, deals, covenants, treaties, and agreements over equally many years. The alliances we have mean so much more because of these long histories of cooperation. Beware those willing to betray such histories too quickly for newer and shinier relationships. Those types, much like those who newly come into money, are far too wrapped up in the swell of the newness and the rush of newfound power to appreciate the past or the future of our children. This is important, my son, for when you are grown and have a family of your own to protect and provide for, both the future and the past must unite to keep them safe. It is what I and your mother strive to do in providing for you, your brother, and your sister._

_We are, unfortunately, coming upon a time when the old ways are being seen as outdated and less shiny, but you should not allow the new ways to taint your respect for the way things have been. Keep your mind open, as always, to the ebb and flow of what is going on around you, but do not make haste to decide on what is truly better until you know all that there is to know. To do otherwise, my son, is unwise._

_Congratulations on finding the lost kitten in the rose bushes, Regulus. It seems that we, as male heirs of the Black family, are doomed to find wayward cats. While it seems that she has not taking a shine to you, specifically, perhaps she is meant for someone else at Hogwarts. You should keep your eyes open, my son, in case you find someone in the future. Do not take this as a reason to shirk responsibility in taking care of her until this comes to pass. We must take our duties seriously, no matter how small we may think them. I will owl you a parcel with Denebola's favourite food to keep her healthy. I assure you, while she loves the bacon you are feeding her, it is probably not a staple food fitting a growing kitten._

_Your mother sends her love, as do I._

_Your loving father,_

_Orion (his seal, the Belt of Orion) (seal of the House of Black)_

_p.s. The best way to lure your sister, the phoenix, to your side is much like the bird of her namesake. I have sent a bundle of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and mangoes to assist you in this task ahead. Do not give in to the temptation to devour them yourself, or I will send word to Madam Pomfrey to let you lay in bed, clutching your stomach as your personal greed eats you from within._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_My Lord Father,_

_I am not sure what sort of test you gave my darling younger brother most recently, but I am afraid whatever it was, he failed it. He has been in the infirmary, clutching his stomach, moaning that he should have listened and that Madam Pomfrey will not ease his pain at your behest._

_I, Severus, and Remus have taken up custody of the kitten while Regulus is… occupied. You were quite accurate. She is very cute and obnoxiously fluffy. She has even charmed the young Lord Malfoy, and I have caught him slipping her pieces of fish from his dinner plate during evening meals._

_There is a new staff member that seems to sulk about, but I have never once seen him at the Head Table. It seems that while he is considered staff, as I have seen the other faculty and staff speak with him, he does not sit with the faculty during meals. This leads me to believe his position is not that of a professor, yet, I have seen the Headmaster direct him to do things around the grounds. Perhaps, he is the new caretaker. Master McGonagall had mentioned that they were looking for someone for the position, but things have been so busy, I have been completely unable to remember asking her about it._

_He seems to avert his eyes whenever I or anyone else looks his direction, and I have heard others in the halls call him a squib in a very rude manner. I cannot imagine being born without magic, my father. The very thought scares me to the bones. I can only imagine what it would be like trying to make a life in a magical world when you, yourself, cannot embrace its splendor._

_This is an odd thing, father, but it seems like he is quite lonely and isolated. His quarters is far from the travelled places in the school. It's almost as if the Headmaster wants him to be apart from us… or us from him. I am not sure which._

_Do you think we should befriend him? Would that be proper? I am not sure what would be proper in this case. I am not even sure what title to call him by. I do not wish to insult the man as the first thing I do._

_You loving daughter,_

_Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dearest, my daughter,_

_Your father sends his regrets that he cannot write you himself, but he is currently, quite literally, knee deep in Kneazles. One of his old friends came to visit, and they were doing some custom spell crafting. Somehow, while they were attempting to duplicate a tea service, Denebola jumped in at just the wrong moment._

_We now have a rampaging horde of orange Kneazles pinning both your father and his friend, Xavier, to the floor of his study. I refuse to go in there, lest the Kneazles take a shine to me and I end up flat on the floor, pinned by Kneazles. I am refraining from bringing up how it could have been avoided if he'd never let the orange menace into our house to begin with, but I do so wish to. Alas, Denebola is a member of our family at this point. His clones, however, I am unsure what we will do with._

_Xavier seems to believe they will disappear in a day or two, as the spell they had crafted had a time limiter on it, but we are currently on day two and have yet to see any sign of disappearance._

_My recommendation, my daughter, is that you and your friends do your best to befriend this new staff member. From how you describe it, it seems that he is being isolated for some purpose, but that tends to do only one thing, in my experience: make them more susceptible to the "kindness" of some future rescuer. It is my opinion, and your father would agree if he were not busy, that the more allies you and your friends have at Hogwarts, the better. He may be, as you say, a squib, but that may make him all the more loyal to you in the future if he finds a friend in you now._

_I would greet him with the highest formality you would treat one of the staff of Hogwarts, since you do not know a title. A formal curtsy is probably unnecessary, but a respectful half-curtsy or bow of the head would suffice as a first introduction until station can be worked out. Even so, no matter what you find out, he is a staff member of Hogwarts, and that alone requires a bit of deference._

_As much as I loathe to inflict a cat upon another innocent soul, perhaps you should take the kitten with you. A person forced to live alone surrounded in both students and faculty, would undoubtedly hunger for some sort of social interaction. Perhaps, you could use the kitten as an icebreaker to this unknown fellow._

_Regardless of how you tend to it, I wish you luck. I am sure, however, that you will do well._

_I have sent an owl parcel of cookies and fruit for you and your friends to share. You are not allowed to share any of it with Regulus after the stunt he pulled!_

_Your loving mother,_

_Walburga (seal of the House of Black)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Severus,_

_My son, I have decided to take up Lord Black's generous help in finding myself a safe haven away from your father's incessant drinking and abuse. He was quite right in being concerned._

_Last week, in his drunken haze, he knocked me down the stairs of the house and passed out. Fortunately, only the railing was broken and not myself, but I have come to realise that there is nothing my staying with him will do to help him. He is, in fact, getting worse._

_Lord and Lady Black have been very helpful in finding me a small Wizarding community in Cornwall. There is a small fishing village nearby, a beautiful lighthouse, and clean sea air that I haven't been able to enjoy since my childhood. It reminds me so much of the home I grew up in._

_Lord Black has been, on my behalf, speaking with my estranged family that thought me dead when I eloped to be with your father. He is the most accomplished diplomat, and I do not know what I would have done without his help. He is convinced that once the reason for my leaving him is finalised, the marriage annulment will allow me to return to the fold of the Prince family and their combined protection. There was no sealing of magic when I and Tobias married, and the Prince family will see that as marriage that never happened. My only concern, which I have spoken to both Lord and Lady Black about, is you. I do not wish you to thought of as less because your father's line. I do not wish to be forbidden to acknowledge you for the sake of a family name. Regardless of what is to happen, I will write when I know what it will be._

_I love you, Severus. Please, do not forget this. Pray, forgive me for not having fled with you sooner and spared you the childhood I know was not kind to you._

_Love,_

_Your Mother (no seal)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Mother,_

_Do not worry about me, mother. I am fine. My education goes well, and I do not think ill of you for getting out from under my father's heavy hand. Do what you need to do to stay safe and alive. That is all I could ask of you._

_My Masters have both sworn I will be taken care of, and Lord and Lady Black have opened their home to me for the summer months and holidays when we are not specifically staying at our Masters' residences._

_If you have a chance to reconcile with your birth family, I think you should embrace it. I know you love me, mother. I will hold that in my heart until the day I am no more, but do not worry if your family wishes to distance themselves from me for my father's sake. I cannot blame them. My father is a horrible man._

_One day, perhaps, when I am grown and have made a name for myself, I will be able to stand on the name of Snape and prove myself not a product of my father's genes buy my own worth. Then, the Prince family will have nothing to be ashamed of, save perhaps, judging me without knowing me first._

_There is always the hope, mother, that your family may surprise you, for if anything sharing a home with Lord and Lady Black and studying under two Masters has taught me, is that value is in the deed, not hearsay. Or, perhaps, as you once said to me, "Proof is in the pudding."_

_Regardless of what happens, I will always be your son._

_Love,_

_Severus, (his seal, the eagle and the serpent)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Apprentice Severus Snape,_

_I, Lady Irene Prince of the House of Prince, send greetings._

_It has come to my attention that not only has my daughter been found alive, to which I have never lost hope, but that we have been blessed with a grandson. It was with great joy that not only has the dream that I would not die before reuniting with my beloved daughter come to pass, but also, that I may get to meet the grandson I was never allowed to meet as a younger child._

_It is my hope, Severus, that you would agree to meet with me, perhaps, under the supervision of your combined Masters in order to make you feel less uncomfortable. I have read much about you in the papers, long before I realised you were my kin. You have done very well for yourself, and all of it has been done without the assistance of money or influence. That proves to me that you are a person worthy to get to know, and I would be greatly interested in meeting you face to face. There is much I would wish to ask you about your life and your interests, as I'm sure there is much you would ask of me as well._

_Sincerely,_

_Lady Irene Prince (seal of the House of Prince)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Mum,_

_You were right, mum. The first few months have been lonely and cold, but I have made friends, and they are not who I expected them to be._

_Headmaster Dumbledore had been the only one to visit me until a few weeks ago, but lately, if I dare believe it, I have found friends._

_Four students from Hogwarts have taken it upon themselves to know me, and despite my residence being far from their dormitories, they visit almost every night, even if only for a few minutes at a time._

_If you would believe it, three of them are the Apprentices that won the Potion's Contest this last season. They were responsible for the Wolfsbane Potion that has helped the people afflicted with lycanthropy. They didn't know it, but they had actually helped my school friend, Langford, reconcile with his family for the first time since he was bitten by Fenrir Greyback back when we were children. It was because of Langford that I was saved from becoming a werewolf on top of being a squib, and it was because of these young students that my friend sent me the first owl I have received from him since he ran away to Bulgaria seeking the underground to save him from persecution here in England. I know you didn't approve of me keeping on contact with him after the accident, mum, but he was always kind to me, even when everyone else… well it's all water under the bridge now._

_These four have used my room as a testing ground for their Transfiguration, and they have turned my humble and overly dusty chambers into a grand room fit for royalty or Merlin himself! My bed, no longer pieced together with old beds from the dormitories, is a grand thing with carved lions and serpents for posts. The sheets are as soft as silk._

_They helped me take out the old window that was busted so badly that it couldn't open. It took hours, but they helped me reconstruct the glass in a new frame and set it in the window. They even called their Master, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, when they couldn't quite figure out the older makings of the window setting. She seemed like a wonderful elder witch. I'm not sure why I was so scared to approach her before. She seemed appalled by my being so isolated. She had presumed I would be given the chambers of the old Caretaker. I told her I wouldn't trade my new place for the world, though. They had worked so hard on making me feel at home. I don't have the heart to move. She assured me that, if it came to a move, that all I had to do is let her know, and she and her apprentices would be glad to assist me in the move. At first I thought she was going to force them to help, but when I saw them smiling and nodding, I couldn't help but think they truly wished to help._

_The stained glass has wondrous moving dragons and fleeing knights that remind me of the stories you once told me as a child._

_For the first time in my life, I have the envy of Aunt Maybelle's Persian rugs, and I have shelves full of so many small trinkets I had found broken and cast away in the rooms of Hogwarts. They have helped me repair them with magic._

_You would never believe it, but they aren't like the others. They don't make fun of me for being a squib. The young witch, her name is Hermione Black, asked if I wished to repair them the Muggle way, or if I minded if they fix it with magic. She actually asked my opinion! I didn't know what to say. I stammered and babbled, but they didn't make fun of me. For the first time, I feel like I may have friends. Real friends._

_The youngest amongst them, his name is Regulus, is Hermione's brother. He gifted me a fuzzball kitten I have named Mrs Norris after the older lady that used to babysit me as a child. Her hair looked exactly the same as the kitten's and I couldn't help but name her! She follows me everywhere, demanding to go with me—even to the bathroom!_

_Regulus crafted an elaborate cat "castle" in my chambers. It has ramps and ramparts and cubby holes for her to crawl in and sleep. Sometimes when you walk by, you can't tell she's there until she attacks your ankles as you go by. She's a lot like Mrs Norris, actually. Please don't tell her I said that!_

_Save Regulus, the other three are formal Apprentices, and they all call me formally "Mr Filch" in public, but when they come to visit my chambers, I have given them permission to call my by my first name, and they agreed only if I called them by theirs. Technically, they outrank me, but you'd never know it by how they treat me. They treat me as one would a professor, and it always takes me off guard. I've never had anyone treat me well once they found out I was… well you know. Defective._

_I'm finally starting to enjoy my job here, and I'm glad you told me to hold out and be patient. I was really losing hope that I'd ever fit in. I'm not a professor, and I had really thought my being a squib would make it impossible to make friends, as it had so many times before._

_I really am happy here. Please tell father I am doing better. I know he was worried._

_The owl I'm using to send this letter is named Sagacity. He's Hermione's owl. His favourite treat are the owl nuts from Eeylops Owl Emporium. Hermione says it's because he spent so much time waiting for her there, so it's like a comfort food. _

_Hermione, Regulus, Severus, and Remus are teaching me how to call the Hogwarts' owls without magic in case I need to write you and they aren't around. Between the four of them, they found me a full set of stationary, an inkwell, a nice writing quill, and some sealing wax. I should be able to write you more often now. No one ever bothered to tell me how to call the owls to me without magic. Maybe it is because they don't even think about the owls seeming to know when you need them when you are magical._

_I am enclosing a picture of Mrs Norris and me together. If the real Mrs Norris comes by for tea, be sure to call the cat Pest. That is what Severus calls her because she takes over your lap._

_Thank you for not giving up on me, mum. You always told me never to give up, and I will admit, until now, I had my doubts._

_Love,_

_Argus (messy kitten print smashed into red sealing wax and what appears to be the mark of a cat tongue sliding across the signature)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed the slightly long chapter. I always thought that Argus was a character, much like Severus, that could have been so much more if he'd been given a chance when he was younger and more malleable. If there was anything looked down on more than being Muggle-born, it was being born a squib in a family of magic-users. I can only imagine how lonely that would be, and how the man would cling to the only one that wouldn't judge him (Mrs Norris) and then want to do well by Albus (because he had given him a chance.)


	30. Chapter 30 Into the Maw of the Wolf

**A/N:** I am back to doing case studies and med-sheets this weekend, so this will probably be the last update for a while. School, as always, takes priority. Wish me luck. I will post as time allows.

**Beta Love**: fluffpanda, the Mistress of Legalese

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 30: Into the Maw of the Wolf**

_Salutations to my cousin, Lord Cygnus Black of the House of Black, I, Lord Orion Black of the House of Black send greetings._

_As we are cousins, Cygnus, I will ignore your rudeness in your previous correspondence accusing my daughter of "poaching" the young Lord Malfoy out from under Narcissa's "wiles" as you say._

_My daughter, while well within her rights to accept courtship for any who go about it in the formal way as well as be to her liking, is not "seducing" Lord Malfoy. She has shown no interest in such things. It has been a long time since our daughters were required to have their formal "coming out" and presentation to the Royal Court on top of all the other hoop jumping, and the only thing I require of my daughter is that she accept no suitor that does not have the proper decency to approach it with the proper Four Kisses. If she were to be so lucky as to be bound with one kiss, I would gladly pay her dowry on the spot, and you, my cousin, know that anyone who forms a new lineage via that ancient magic cannot be challenged as just as Pure as the rest of our lines._

_If, and I say if, the young Lord Malfoy did wish to court my daughter, it would be his choice and my daughter's to accept. He is of an fine upstanding family with a fine head on his shoulders. He is welcome to do so as is his right, provided it do it the proper way._

_I will not, however, stand by and allow you to slander my daughter's reputation solely on hearsay. Believe me, I would know if my daughter was in a courtship. Even, if what you accuse were true and she eloped with him last night, we would be reading about the sealed magical wake in the morning paper._

_Narcissa is welcome to "practice her wiles" upon Lord Malfoy as often as she wishes, but I caution you to look closer into your own branch of the family, my cousin. As far as I have been informed, your daughter has not shown any interest in Lord Malfoy in any way short of admiration for his House. Her eyes are upon another, and if I may be so bold, his eyes settle solely upon her. I encourage you to let the ancient magic decide the trueness of match. Magic is pure. Magic decides. To force it goes against how our families came to be. Nothing, not even previous agreements between parents can deny Magic's Choice. If only we were to be so blessed to see it happen more often. We need more of it, not less._

_I expect a full apology for your slanderous and unfounded accusations, Cygnus. You have upset my wife, and that I do not take lightly. Pray that your accusations do not reach my daughter, for if her Masters do not descend upon you with righteous fury, I shall, and no one will fault me my due._

_Sincerely,_

_Lord Orion Black (seal of the House of Black) (seal of the Belt of Orion)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Remus, did you eat Mrs Norris again?" Severus said, his quill working furiously as he finished the last of his essay.

Remus, who was in wolf form, had his mouth closed over "something" as he looked extremely guilty. One small kitten paw came out of from between Remus' teeth and batted at his lupine lips and whiskers.

Remus opened his jaws and let Mrs Norris tumble out, half covered in lupine drool. The kitten, who seemed to be a sucker for punishment, dove back into the "safety" of Remus' jaws.

"So much for the cat and dog hypothesis," Severus snarked, continuing to scribble away at his essay.

"You were expecting a good fracas, Severus?" Hermione chuckled, finishing up her essay and rolling it up.

"I was hoping for at least a small spat," Severus bemoaned. "Kitten claws batting his nose or perhaps a nice chase across the green."

"Lovely, Severus," Hermione quipped. "You're just angry that Remus finished his essay before either of us."

Severus snorted.

Hermione tapped her nose and nodded at him.

Severus turned away, refusing to look her in the eyes.

Hermione chuckled, and Fawkes chirped sweetly from his perch on Hermione's shoulder.

Remus "spat" out Mrs Norris and turned into his human form, laughing as the kitten looked up at him forlornly, missing her lupine friend. He scooped up the drool-covered kitten and wiped her clean with a towel.

"How is it you always have a towel on you, Remus?" Regulus asked as he bounced down the pathway to meet up with them.

"Always be prepared," Remus said with a shrug.

Regulus made a face. "Next thing you know, every one of you are going to pull out a towel in some sort of strange towel solidarity that no one outside of your group can understand."

Severus and Hermione both waved dark green towels at Regulus as Remus fastidiously rubbed Mrs Norris dry with his Gryffindor red towel.

Regulus slapped himself with his palm. "I want in on this club that seems to have formed under my nose."

"Start by carrying around a towel," Severus said as he finished the last of his essay, rolled it up, and sealed it with sealing wax.

"Not the towel-carrying club," Regulus sighed.

"There's another club?" Hermione asked.

Regulus put his hands on his hips in a classic Peter Pan pose. "Come on, sis. We were raised in the greatest family of paranoid conspiracy hounds on this side of the ocean. I'm missing out on something wondrous, I just know it."

"You always think you're missing out on some great adventure, Regulus," Hermione sniffed. "You used to follow me into restroom because you thought I was keeping a baby dragon in the towel closet."

"I did not!" Regulus protested, flushing red.

Severus and Remus exchanged amused glances.

"Ah, there you are," a man's voice greeted as it came down the path. "I trust she hasn't been giving you too much trouble?"

"Hello, Argus," Regulus greeted, having looked around to make sure no one else heard them greet each other with familiarity. "Looks like she's just finished with her bath."

Remus smirked, allowing the fuzzball Mrs Norris to tumble from the towel and bounce over to pounce Filch's foot. The older man scooped the kitten up and loved on her, affection in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to leave her with you. There was the meeting with the Headmaster and the other staff. I had no idea how long it would be," he sighed.

"It's fine, Argus," Remus answered. "We were happy to kitten-sit."

Mrs Norris meowed loudly up at Argus' face because he had stopped rubbing her ears. "Demanding little thing, isn't she?" Argus laughed.

"Dad says females were made to be demanding," Remus chuckled, earning him a slug on the arm from Hermione. "Ow! Now that wasn't very lady—AH!"

Argus tried not to laugh, but the fuzzy grey rabbit ears on Remus' head were overly large and utterly adorable.

"What did you do to me?" Remus moaned.

Severus turned his head away, hiding his growing grin.

Regulus laughed without bother of protocol, directly at Remus' face.

Remus frowned and patted his head. His eyes grew wide as he felt the ears, and he shook his head frantically as if it would dispel them. The rabbit ears remained.

Argus snorted a laugh, unable to help himself.

Remus slumped. "Why me?"

"Why not?" Hermione chuckled. "You deserved it."

"Be glad you are not my brother, Remus," Regulus giggled. "You'd be living in a dog house and have dog ears and a tail."

"At least that would be more natural to me," Remus mumbled.

"What?" Regulus asked, not hearing his mumbles.

"Nothing," Remus sighed.

Fawkes gave off a series of warbling chortles, sounding very pleased with himself.

Argus' eyes went wide. "Is that… Headmaster Dumbledore's phoenix?"

"As much as any phoenix can belong to anyone," Severus said with a tilt of his head. "He chooses to stay with us. I think he is bored or neglected."

"Both, most likely," Regulus said with a serious note to his voice. "I can't imagine that being cooped up in the Headmaster's Office swinging on a perch as being overly exciting."

Fawkes warbled, as if in agreement.

"I think he has a crush on Hermione," Remus said, one of his grey rabbit ears twitched as he said it.

Hermione shook her head as Fawkes preened her hair. "You are incorrigible."

"You keep spending so much time with Masters Teaworth and Willowbark, and I'm never going to be able to understand you," Remus moaned.

"Don't feel bad," Regulus said. "Hermione's been using big vocabulary since dad left the dictionary in her crib. He said she learned it ozma—ozmor—"

"Osmotically?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, that," Regulus said, crossing his arms. "Not you too?"

Severus quirked his lips but said nothing further.

Regulus sighed. "I'm going to have to work hard to be noticed by a Master so I can learn obscure vocabulary and look smug in any conversation too."

Hermione playfully shoved her younger brother and it turned into a tickle fight, with Fawkes lending a helping beak to tickle Regulus into the ground.

Regulus expired on the ground with a series of pants. "I yield! Mercy!"

Fawkes perched on his head and warbled.

"Forge your own path to greatness, brother," Hermione laughed, ruffling his hair. "I know you will be good at it, whatever it may be."

"If I could just figure out what that would be," Regulus pouted.

"You're eleven, brother," Hermione laughed. "Give it some time."

"You weren't even thirteen before you were fully Apprenticed!" Regulus accused.

Remus shook his head. "Most people would shy away from more responsibility at our age, Regulus. Why are you in such a hurry?"

Regulus slumped. "I just want to feel like I'm not some tag-along that people pat on the head and say 'poor thing, he'll never be like his sister'."

Severus pulled Regulus into an arm lock. "Now listen here, and you listen well, Regulus," he rumbled, and for a moment Hermione heard the same tone Professor Snape would send first year students cowering under their desks. "You will be as grand as you work hard to be by no one's power but your own. You do not need to compare yourself to your sister or any of us to judge if this is so. You can be your own worst critic. Don't let yourself sabotage your hard work or your dreams. They may be dreams now, but one day, they may be real."

Severus released Regulus after he stopped squirming.

Regulus rubbed his black hair and looked up at Severus. "How is it that you ended up so wise? You sound like one of our professors."

Hermione chuckled into her hand politely. Severus gave her a lifted eyebrow.

"A certain witch taught me," Severus said softly, "never to let go of my dreams."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore stroked his beard as he stood over Peter Pettigrew's sleeping body. Hours of questioning had given him far more questions than he he had solved. He fingered the earring that had been snagged on Peter's personal effects and frowned at it.

It was a curious earring. It was not made of metal, as one might expect. It was made of something organic and hard. It was as white as his beard. He eyed Peter's ear where it had been ripped out. The boy would never be able to wear an earring in that ear again, but his ear was, at least, intact.

What was strange, however, was that now that he had this odd ring in his hand, he could read Peter's much more easily. As if to give more problems for each one solved, however, Peter's mind was volatile and filled with the thoughts of very confused boy whose limited experience made for a panicked mind filled with even more troubled dreams and thoughts. Some of those thoughts were not entirely human.

Poppy had told him that the boy was prone to sleep under the bed rather than on top of it. He would clasp his food in his hands and nibble off it like a rodent with a sunflower seed. Each day, she explained, he would get worse. His mind would be more and more mixed with that of an animal, or, revert to that of a traumatised child.

Oddly enough, he did seem to become more stable when Miss Evans came to visit him, but it was relative. The more the young witch or any of his current friends came to visit, he would be a very normal twelve year old wizard with twelve year old problems.

It would have been a relief, if Albus didn't know that Peter Pettigrew was the furthest thing from a twelve year old as they came.

Peter had not been Dumbledore's first choice in assisting him gather all of the Hallows, but the one he had groomed for that task had unfortunately left his service. It has been a pity, really, for the boy he had hand-groomed for the task had been zealous and effective in doing what Dumbledore wished up until the point of Ariana's death. It hadn't been the day her death, per se, but the day he had found out about it. Albus had kept that part under wraps for years, assuring him that the stories of her death were simply hearsay. He assured him that Ariana had been moved to a place where she had been safe, and Aberforth had conveniently left the area and hidden himself away, making the story all the more believable.

His chosen agent had continued to train and take orders, convinced that when he was strong enough—powerful enough—that he would be able to take care of Ariana himself.

Ariana had, in her own gifted way, healed something within the boy. She had given him purpose. She had showered him with love that was so unconditional that the boy had actually looked forward to a time when he could leave the orphanage and travel with her. It had been Ariana that had broken the ice for Albus.

Albus hadn't found out about the boy until a few years had passed. Ariana had volunteered at the orphanage every day. It had been the only thing that she did dutifully and well without any relapses into fear or loathing of herself or her magic. Even Aberforth had agreed that the time there was healing something in her. What neither of them had realised was that Ariana had found a kindred spirit in one small, misunderstood boy that had never had a lick of kindness in his life before Ariana.

The boy, she had said, was special. He was magical. Ariana would watch him in the courtyard as he made rocks move, started small fires with his magic, and call the garden snakes to him. He would look at her as if she were going to run or scream or tell on him, but she never did. She watched, and she accepted. The two became friends.

The boy seemed to realise that Ariana was special, but she had been broken somehow. In many ways, Ariana was old enough to be Tom's mother, but she was seemingly frozen in the appearance of teenager. Aberforth had speculated that whatever magic she had accidently pulled on that had taken their mother's life had frozen Ariana in time.

It was only later that Albus realised that the young boy, this Tom Riddle, had protected Ariana as much as she had accepted him unconditionally. Tom had been infuriated when he realised that non-magical children had bullied her and turned her against her magic. He, much like Albus, had wanted a world where Ariana could be free to be as magical as she truly was. Tom had wanted to help her find her magic again. It had become his goal when Albus had "rescued" Tom from the orphanage.

When Albus had offered to take him to Hogwarts, Tom had wanted to know if Ariana would be there. Albus had said no and that it wasn't safe for her there. Tom's face had grown dark.

"Why not?" Tom had demanded. "Why isn't it safe? She's magical. Like me."

"She cannot control her magic, Tom," Albus had explained. "She could hurt someone. She is too old to be in school, now."

"I'm going to Hogwarts to learn to control my magic," Tom had countered "Why, then, can't she?"

"She's not the right age for school, anymore, Tom," Albus had answered. "She's much older than she appears."

"When I am graduate from school," Tom swore, "I will take her to a place she can be free again. I will teach her myself."

Albus had allowed Tom to believe it was possible. He nurtured his dream to keep him willing to do as he was asked. All Tom had wanted was to see Ariana again, and during the first few years of school, he spent his breaks with her while Albus used the opportunity to court the Masters for their magical knowledge in pursuit of his ultimate goal with Gellert: end the Statute of Secrecy and find all of the Deathly Hallows.

It had been perfect. Albus had been free to seek knowledge and power with Gellert, and Tom had tended to Ariana, whom Albus felt he was saddled with unjustly after his mother's accidental death.

Things had to change when Ariana had taken the brunt of the spells that Aberforth, Gellert, and Albus had flug at each other. Ariana had died, and so had the one unwavering way to control and focus Tom. Albus had done the only thing he could do, dismiss her death as falsehood and convince the boy that she was still alive and safe somewhere far away.

It gave Albus more time to find the Deathly Hallows until Tom graduated, and at the "right" time, Ariana would have "run away on her own." Tom could spend his time on the wild goose chase once the Hallows were gathered.

Somehow, however, Tom had found out about Ariana's very real death, and when Albus refused to give him further justification, choosing instead to be as vague as ever, Tom began to change. He began to pester Horace Slughorn for his knowledge. He began to spend long hours away from Albus' sight. Hogwarts had its first student in many, many years die in the women's lavatory.

Tom had asked about it with his increasingly detached and cold demeanor. He was no longer eager to please Albus. Tom was out to please himself. By the time Albus had taken up the position of Headmaster, Ton had applied for the position as Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Albus had warily convinced the Board not to allow it. That had been the last straw.

Tom had left not only Hogwarts, but he had left Albus without an agent. Tom had also, much to Albus' dismay, seeded distension between Slytherin and Gryffindor, making it harder for Albus to influence Slytherin. That had been the time when Albus had decided that no Slytherin could be trusted for his work. They were too suspicious. They were too clever. They asked too many questions, and Albus did not like answering questions. It was better to be influential over the Gryffindor, who were all too eager to rise up and fight, even if they didn't know all the facts.

Slytherin always asked why or wanted to know how it benefitted them or those they cared about.

Gryffindor did what they were told, or rather, they could easily be pointed in a particular direction, wound up, and loosed.

Albus had once wanted to be Slytherin. He wanted the path to greatness, but the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor. At first he had resented it, but then he had realised that being Gryffindor had made it so much easier. Gryffindor were often so daring and brave of heart that they didn't always think first. They strove for chivalry without truly knowing what it meant. They were easier to guide and influence.

He had found Peter after his parents had been killed by a Death Eater raid, a new kind of Dark Wizard that was rising in the dark of night to prey on the unwary and the Muggle-born. He had taken him under wing, set him to tasks, and after a few years of success, gave him the reverse aging potion to allow Peter his greatest assignment: gain the trust of the Potter family, specifically James, and get James to trust Albus so much that he would entrust his cloak to him for safekeeping. He had him adopted into an innocuous Wizarding family who had always wanted a child—the Pettigrews.

It might take years, but if it was successful, Albus would have two of the Deathly Hallows safe within his grasp.

Peter had done his job well, until most recently. The Potters had believed Albus invaluable in keeping their son out of the limelight of the trouble going on at Hogwarts. The cloak was nearly within his grasp.

Something, however, had gone wrong. Somehow, Peter had been compromised. Albus had thought that Peter getting branded as a Death Eater had been a part his integrating into Voldemort's service to spy on him, but something was telling him that perhaps Peter was playing the double agent and was perhaps spying on Dumbledore for Voldemort. The proof was in Peter's garbled mind, and Albus could not access Peter's mind in a way he had not been able to before. The reason was in his hand: the earring, crafted with his hair.

And thanks to whatever magical reaction was scrambling Peter's brain from within, Albus could not determine for sure what plan Peter had been setting in motion, nor could he tell who was serving as Peter's other Master.

Albus sighed. Why couldn't things be easy for once?

At least Peter had brought him a list of possible locations for something important to the rising Dark Lord. He wasn't sure what each of the locations held or if the things on the list were all important. Knowing the Dark Lord he probably spoke in riddles and symbology. It was what Albus had done when teaching Tom Riddle, after all. He had learned from the best.

Even knowing this, Albus didn't even stop to think that perhaps, his own meddling was the instigator to the trouble in his life. Aberforth would have told him that Albus was to blame from the start, beginning with the one day he had been too "preoccupied with his own things" to watch over their little sister the day she had been beaten half to death by Muggles.

Albus pulled out his wand with a resigned sigh. Better to clean up now than have have Peter spewing random information no twelve year old could possible know. He told himself that Peter being able to have a true childhood was a gift or a reward for his hard work.

Albus was good at making up reasons for things, even to himself.

"_Obliviate._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Saturday, October 21st, 1972, Full Moon 99%_

Rita Skeeter was on a trail that promised to be very juicy. She adored juicy leads almost as she adored getting a good story by spying on people using her Animagus form. Someone had given her a tip to be in this particular patch of Chiltern Hills where the River Thames made its pass past Marlow and south of High Wycombe.

She had tried, unsuccessfully, to sneak into Potion Master Barberry's estate to get nice tidbits of story on his new apprentices, but it had ended in disaster. While she was alive, the wards on his property had thrown her back with just a forceful jolt of energy that her hair had been permanently zapped on end and required a daily thrashing of hair tonic to get it back into rights. To top it all off, her eyebrows were missing, and she had to draw them on with an eyebrow pencil every morning, lest people stare at her forehead instead of being uncomfortable as she interrogated them.

Discomfort was supposed to be something other people dealt with, not Rita Skeeter. If anyone was going to be feeling discomfort, it was going to be the people she interviewed.

Rita wiggled one of her antennae as she clung to the bark of a nearby tree trunk. She had first been disgusted by her Animagus form, but spying on people as a beetle had given a whole new world of possibilities. Thanks to her run in with Master Barberry's trespassing wards, she couldn't quite shrink down to the size she used to, and now she was a very distinctively large beetle as far as beetles went. There were other afflictions, she admitted, after her experience, but she couldn't bring them up to him for restitution without admitting that she had blatantly tried to sneak onto his property and spy on him. If the wizard was as ruthless as he was in guarding his property, she could only imagine what he would do to her if he knew without a doubt that she was attempting to spy on him.

To top it all off, all attempts to breach other other Master's properties had met with similar magical slaps to the face, and she was resigned to the fact that no story was worth the fortune she was spending on hair care and cosmetics to hide her having been caught trespassing.

To add insult to injury, another reporter had walked up to the property, waltzed in, and gotten her story through the "proper" channels and an honest interview.

Psh. Honest interviews were boring. After tonight, she would have a story to make all the other reporters wish they were as forward thinking as she was. She had paid good money for the tip she was following tonight—far more galleons than she had to spare, but the informant had been adamant that she would get more than she paid for.

She wasn't sure who or what she would see, but her proving herself to the Daily Prophet would be the key to a successful career. She had to prove she was better than the others. She had to prove her stories were unlike everyone else's. Fame, glory, and respect were all within her grasp. She just needed one big break— one grand enough story.

A snap of a twig alerted her of mental musings, and Rita turned her gaze towards the sound.

An older man was shuffling into the woods, and Rita began to follow him. Every so often, she could get caught in the leaves and branches, still unsure of her Animagus form. Thanks to teaching herself the ability, her ability was quite unstable, and she had narrowly avoided a very embarrassing incident with sticky fly paper in a Muggle tavern. She had almost met her death to the being crushed under a pile of cast aside garbage had her transformation not finally worn off. Her human body had busted out of the refuse can, and she had smelled of cheap beer, limburger, and kitchen grease for months afterwards. She had learned that in certain parts of town, lurking in planters under window sills were not all that safe. Sometimes, random people dumped hot, scalding water out their windows to the street below. Sometimes, they missed the street.

It had taken a month of burn treatment at St Mungos to restore her skin, and even more months of setbacks to her goal of having enough money to buy off good leads for her stories.

She hated "natural" places. There were too many predators. Birds apparently loved having beetles on the menu, and they were perfectly willing to chase her down. Forests made her slightly nervous because it contained natural beetle predators that were perfectly endowed with beetle hunting abilities. She'd been caught in a web of multiple spiders, finding out that silken webs really were invisible to insects. A toad had half swallowed her before she had turned back into a human. A mole had tried to drag her into a burrow. A skunk had tried to gnaw off her head, and only a farmer's dog had managed to save her from that fate by preoccupying the skunk.

Her transformation back into a human, however, had ended with her drenched in skunk spray and two dog bites. The healers at St Mungos were starting to question what line of business she was in. The wilderness was no place to be an Animagus beetle, so she stuck with the urban areas. She was convinced it was safer. If it wasn't, she didn't want to know.

After about a half hour of hiking deeper into the woods, the older man stopped with a sigh. It was with some embarrassment that Rita realised the man was undressing. What kind of tip was she getting? Some older bloke who liked to run naked in the woods? She supposed she could get a good story out of it, but she really didn't want her first great story to be writing about perverts in the woods.

The man was folding his robes into a neat pile, tucking his wand into one of the inner pockets. He was definitely a wizard; that much was certain, and he looked somewhat familiar. Her beetle vision, however, was making ID slightly difficult. Her multi-faceted eyes were great for detecting the things around her, but her human mind refused to see through all of them at once, causing for a strange sense of discombobulation that gave her a slight headache. Part of her wondered if all Animagi were afflicted with the overwhelming senses of their Animagus form. Her old professor, McGonagall, never seemed to be bothered by her cat form in the slightest. She had made it look so easy and natural. It was because of how easy Professor McGonagall had made it look that she figured she could learn it herself and be perfectly fine. She was skilled, after all. She was talented. She had figured that surely she could have learnt to be an Animagus without needing an experienced one holding her hand and forcing her to put herself on the registry. She had been partially right, at least.

It was the registry she feared the most. Rita wanted her form to be undetectable. She craved leverage. Being a member of Slytherin at Hogwarts had drilled it into her that knowledge was power and the most powerful knew the most about others. She wanted to be accountable to no one but herself. She wanted to dig up the stories without hassle of going through the right channels for interviews. Why bother with interviews when you could learn the dirt directly by observation?

She had heard stories of what they did to Animagi they caught who hadn't registered. They put a trace on them if they had done it more than a few times and been caught using their form for "nefarious" deeds. It was preposterous. What could be more natural that using her beetle form to get into places a beetle could naturally fit? So what if she happened to pick up on juicy bits of information and gossip that made great stories? She didn't need anyone getting into her business! It was her job to get into other people's business.

The yet unknown naked man was leaning against a tree, waiting, and Rita refocused her attention on him, wincing as the influx of stimuli from her multi-faceted eyes overloading her mind with a rush of pain. She steeled herself. A little pain was worth it if the story was good. All of it would be worth it.

The man pulled out a bottle and uncorked it, sipped it, and replaced it in the pile of clothing. He sighed softly, seemingly more relaxed, and Rita pondered if he was taking one of the underground addictive potions that some wizards and witches found themselves addicted to.

There was a series of rustlings, and the man and Rita both looked towards the sound.

"Daddy!" a young girl called. "Daddy, why did you go away?"

"Vic… Victoria?" the man cried. "No, no, baby, no. You're supposed to be with your mother!"

"No, daddy, no! I want to be with you!"

"Victoria, Merlin no," the man gasped. "Vicky, you need to go right back where you came, do you hear me? You need to go back home!"

The little girl clung to his leg. "No, you promised me a story! You promised, Daddy!

"W… You were in bed, darling," the man said with frustration. "You were sleeping. H… How did you even get here?"

"The pink lady brought me, Daddy!" Victoria said excitedly. "She said I could really help her out by telling her where our family camping spot was!"

"The pink…" the man asked. "Oh, no, you brought someone here?"

"Hem, hem," a voice croaked from the pathway. A shorter woman with a twisted all too proud of herself expression was pointing a somewhat stunted wand at him.

The man threw himself in front of his child, shoving the girl behind him.

"I knew you had a secret, Jamison," the woman tutted. I knew if I figured out why you never stay late on certain days at the office that I would find out something important, _halfbreed_." She snarled the word halfbreed as though it were the most horrible insult in the world. "I finally figured out your secret."

"Please, Dolores," the man pleaded. "I haven't hurt anyone!"

"I'm going to make sure you are locked away in Azkaban," Umbridge cooed. "Like the dangerous mindless beast you are."

"Please, just… take my daughter home," he pleaded. "I'll turn myself into you in the morning, I swear it! Just—"

"No, Daddy, no!" the girl clung to him. "I want to stay with you!"

"No," Umbridge said matter-of-factly. "I think you're going to prove just how monstrous you are, Jamison. I'm betting you're the one that killed those children in Hathersage! I know I saw you there. I knew when I saw you there at that disgusting rally where the idiots were supporting that foolhardy Wolfsbane Potion that you had a dirty little secret. No one is going to believe that stupid little potion is worth anything when they find out you murdered your own child."

"She's a child, Dolores!" Jamison pleaded. "For the love of Merlin, please!"

"You're a dirty halfbreed, Jamison," Umbridge tsked. "I don't owe you anything."

"For pity's sake," the man pleaded. "I've known your father for years!"

Umbridge's face darkened even more. "One less person who will remember what a pathetic excuse for a wizard he was."

Jamison's face paled in horror of just how much hate filled Umbridge's heart that she would spurn her own father for power and a name and allow an innocent child to die. Gold bled out over his normal hazel eyes, seeming to glow in the dimming light as the last of the sunset disappeared. "No…"

He knelt by his daughter. "Vicky, I need you to run down that path as fast as you can. It's going to be a game. When you get to the town, you need to run into one of the shops and tell them to contact your mum, ok?"

"No, daddy! I want to stay with you!" the girl pleaded, not understanding the situation she was in.

"Vicky, please. I need to show me how fast you are, okay? It'll be like Babbity Rabbity, okay? Remember how he raced the wind? You're going to be Babbity Rabbity."

"Are you going to be the wolf, daddy?" the girl asked. "Are you going to try and eat Babbity?"

The man winced and kissed her forehead. "Yes, Vicky, and you can't let me catch you, okay? You need to run and not look back! Can you do that for me? Can you be Babbity Rabbity?"

The girl looked torn, and the man looked worried, staring to where the last point of the sun was disappearing on the horizon. "Ok, daddy, but when we're done racing, can we get ice cream?"

Jamison's hands shook. "Tomorrow, okay? They aren't open this late. Come on now. Go!"

The little girl ran down the path at last and past Umbridge, and the woman grabbed the girl's arm before she could completely get by her. "Where are you going, dear?"

"Let go of me!" Victoria cried.

Jamison looked like he was going to tackle Umbridge, but she leveled her wand at him.

"Ah, ah, ah," she admonished.

Dolores winced suddenly as a stinging hex slammed into her wrist, and she was forced to let go of the girl. The little girl ran down the path, not looking back. The girl ran terrified, perhaps having a new reason to be fearful that had nothing to do with her father's impending change. Umbridge stared at Jamison and glared at him, but the man looked just as baffled as she did.

Dolores doubled over in pain. "What did you cast at me?" she shrieked in agony, as her wand went clattering into the foliage.

But Jamison did not answer because he had begun his shift into a werewolf. His lips pulled back from elongating fangs as fur spread over his body and he hunched over onto all fours. His head tilted back as his jaw realigned and his vocal chords jerked and changed. He let out a long, baleful howl, but it was not in the agony of the change.

The potion he had taken had done its work.

The werewolf rose up on four stronger legs, his lips pulling back from his teeth as foam flecked around his mouth. Pure hatred glowed in the werewolf's eyes. He leapt towards Umbridge, who had staggered off into the undergrowth, screaming and clutching her body.

If there had been any sliver of pity the man might have had for the woman, it had been purged with the transformation. There werewolf descended upon Umbridge with a snarl.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Rita Skeeter clung to the branches of the tree in her human form, half panicked as her fear seemed to keep her from focusing enough to go back into her beetle form. As she had seen the pink-clad woman grasp the little girl and keep her from running, reality had set in as to what she was seeing.

The man was a werewolf. The full moon was rising in the sky almost as if someone had caught it on a rope and pulled it up into place with accelerated speed.

Jamison. If it was the Jamison she recalled that worked at the Ministry of Magic, it was Jamison Stemwinder. He worked as an official for the one of the obscure sub-offices that handled public relations. That was how she recognised him. Rita has spend a few days skittering about around the Ministry in her beetle form trying to get a good story. The plan had backfired when she had chosen the one week they were doing the most mundane of tasks: inventory. The entire Ministry had been so swept up in numbers that not even a peep of juicy gossip had turned up. There had only been wizards who missed their wives, witches who missed their husbands or their kids, and a disturbing amount of Aurors whose presence had kept her from going any deeper into the Ministry.

Rita, having realised what it would mean if the little girl wasn't allowed to run, had decided to shift out of her beetle form and flung a stinging hex at the woman from the safety of the trees. The girl had fled, thankfully, just as the screaming had started. What was odd, was that the screaming wasn't coming from the werewolf. Umbridge, to managed to look pink even in the dark of night, was screaming as though she was being torn apart.

Unable to stop watching, even as she clung to the trunk of the tree with both hands, Rita realised that the werewolf may not have been the reason for her expensive tip. Dolores Umbridge, hater for all things impure, was changing.

The woman screamed as she fell to the ground, hidden from the transforming werewolf, but not from Rita. Rita watched as Dolores convulsed, her limbs jerking, her muscles tensing, and her bones reshaping and realigning. Canine fangs jutted out of her gums as a thin muzzle formed. Her pink cardigan sweater burst as wooly fur sprouted over her body. Claws sprouted out of her twisting hands as her fingers shrunk, locked, and turned into paws. A bushy tail burst out of her skirt, looking like a pom-pom on a stick. She screamed continuously, but her voice was changing into a growling, snarling, half-barking mixture of garbled sounds. The muzzle that formed out of her face was completely smooth, standing out unnaturally against the wooly fur that was covering her neck and back. Her arms, which were forming into forelegs, were naked smooth, but the area around her wrists were covered in thick fur. From the waist up, fur was thickening around her midsection, but from the waist down, her skin was devoid of fur. To complete the horrific mental train wreck, Umbridge's growing fur was utterly bright and unignorable pink.

Rita Skeeter would have fallen out of the tree had she not practically dug her fingers into the bark of the trunk.

Dolores Umbridge was… a were-poodle—complete with continental clip. It was almost as if Umbridge's personality was so rigid, that even transformed into a monster, she couldn't be seen without a "proper poodle cut."

Rita had a few seconds to gape just before the angry werewolf, which apparently held a grudge for his daughter's sake, descended upon the newly transformed were-poodle with extreme prejudice.

A scream of the little girl came from further down the path, and Rita snapped her head up. Was the girl injured? Did she fall in the dark? She looked down and saw that the pink were-poodle had heard the sound, and she tore off down the path, slavering in eager bestial desire.

No!

Rita wanted her story, yes, but she was not going to watch a little girl get torn to pieces by a transformed… creature or the enraged werewolf that was tearing off after her. She wished she'd paid more attention in DADA class back when they were teaching Patroni. She had never thought she'd need to send a message to an Auror like she did now.

Praying to whatever gods might be listening, Merlin, Circe, Hecate, and Morgana le Fey just to cover all her bases, she willed herself into beetle form, and felt the strange but familiar pop as she shrank down into her beetle form. She lifted her hard outer wing covers and launched off the bark, flying towards the sound of the girl's scream.

Umbridge, or what was Umbridge, was apparently far more practiced in the use of her four legs than Rita was in her beetle form, and she had a very solid lead. Rita saw, with all the facets of her eyes, a group of adults hugging the terrified little girl on the trail. Perhaps, they had heard her cries from the nearby town. Perhaps they had been camping in the woods. Whatever the reason, they were there and the slavering Umbridge was closing the distance.

Umbridge only had eyes for the child, and Rita realised she had to do something or the child was going to be torn to pieces or infected. She had no idea if were-poodles were infectious, but she didn't want her claim to fame to be "the witch who let a little girl get infected with poodle-anthropy". Rita tumbled out of her beetle form, pointing her wand at Umbridge and threw a stunning spell.

The enraged were-poodle snarled, looking towards her with refocused hatred. Rita threw out another spell, slamming into the were-poodle's snarling face, and the beast showed little sign of being affected other than wanting to tear something else apart.

One of the adults with the child was running with the young girl down the path. Two others remained to try and guard her their exit. Umbridge was on top of one with fervor, her jaws clamping on the man's arm and claws raking down their body. The man cried out as the other took a branch from somewhere and started to beat Umbridge upside the head and back with it.

Rita couldn't fire off a spell without hitting them. She was also fairly sure they were Muggles as they were running instead of Apparating or casting spells, so getting seen using magic…

They were being attacked by a were-poodle. The time for secrecy was probably long since past.

Rita tried to think of spells that would work if the stunners were not. She waited for an opening as the man bashed the were-poodle over the head.

There!

She flung a blinding spell at the beast.

For the moment, at least, Umbridge seemed stopped. She staggered around, growling, but biting the air instead of a specific place. It had worked!

One man was helping the injured one escape down the path, but the Umbridge-poodle snapped up her head.

Her ears were still working.

She blindly charged down the path, and Rita was running out of things she could do.

Suddenly, the werewolf, that Rita had forgotten yet again, slammed into Rita, snarling with rage. The werewolf snapped his jaws around Umbridge's neck, but the thick wooly fur protected her neck. Umbridge snarled, muzzle snapping at the werewolf with blind imprecision.

Growling, snarling, and the sounds of bodies slamming into each other filled the night. The werewolf was massive, in comparison, but the were-poodle was leaner and more agile. Thick fur, while not covering all of her body, covered all of the places that were commonly bit during combat, making it harder for the werewolf to get upper ground.

For a while, it seemed to be a stalemate. The werewolf would pin and go from the throat, but Umbridge would wriggle out from under and go for his face, his ears, or any place she could get her mouth around. The werewolf had managed to savage her ears. Suddenly, however, something flashed across the werewolf's eyes. Rita saw it like a flash of lightning in his baleful yellow eyes: understanding.

The werewolf roared, wrestling Umbridge down to the ground with his body weight and then raked his rear claws down Umbridge's unprotected lower belly and rear legs.

Umbridge yelped and writhed free, bleeding profusely. She glared at the werewolf, and he glared right back.

"No, Daddy is back there! Daddy!" a young girl's voice screamed.

The werepoodle, suddenly reminded of what had her attention before, tore off down the pathway. The werewolf, stunned a moment as his ears perked towards the child's scream, roared and chased after her.

Rita tried to follow as a beetle, but her Animagus form refused to come to her without her wand, making her lose precious time. She waved her wand, incanting the spell to invoke her transformation and took to the air, her beetle wings frantically beating in an effort to propel her towards where tragedy was still threatening to happen.

By the time Rita got to the clearing at the end of the path, she saw Umbridge leaping towards the group of Muggles were were trying to both shield and prevent the girl from running back into the forest. The werewolf, however, had stamina, and he leapt into the air, colliding with Umbridge and slamming her down before she could attack.

"Daddy!"

Snarls, growls, and the sounds of a not-quite-a-wolf and a not-quite-a-dog trying to each other apart filled the clearing. Rita, finally deciding that showing herself was going to have to happen, changed back into her human form, happy that for once, it happened she she needed it to really work. She stumbled into the clearing, fumbling with her wand to figure out who to point it at.

Umbridge gave out a loud yelp as the werewolf snapped his jaws around her unprotected face and shook her violently. Umbridge went limp as the werewolf threw her to the side, panting heavily.

"Daddy!" the girl yelled, breaking free of the Muggles.

_Merlin, no! _Rita pointed her wand, but stumbled in the undergrowth. Her wand went tumbling as the little girl ran towards the slavering werewolf. Rita closed her eyes, not wanting to see… not wanting to be a witness to the child's inevitable attack.

"Daddy!" the girl cried. "You saved me, daddy!"

Rita's head snapped up.

The young girl had her arms wrapped around the slavering werewolf's neck. His sides were heaving. Drool was dripping from his mouth, but he allowed the girl's arms to surround him. Ever so slowly, his tail wagged. A hot, pink tongue shot out and pegged the girl on the face once, twice, and three times.

Victoria giggled and clung to the werewolf, muttering, "Daddy! Daddy! Why didn't you tell me you were a wolf for real!"

There was a crack in the air, and Rita's eyes widened as the grown-clad robes of the Aurors entered the clearing. Beside them were three stern looking people dressed in royal purple Obliviator robes.

The team of Aurors looked down at the bleeding were-poodle and the child who was clinging and giggling as the werewolf licked her face.

"I knew I should have drank that fire whisky before coming, Sebastian," the one Auror said. "At least then I could explain all this as a fevered alcoholic hallucination."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**Heroic Werewolf Saves Daughter From First Recorded Were-Poodle!**

**by Rita Skeeter**

_Heroism, my friends, does not always come from those with wands casting spells at Dark Wizards, my friends, and I, Rita Skeeter, am here as a witness to what true bravery and heroism is._

_Jamison Stemwinder, dutiful administrator of the Ministry of Magic by day, has a slight furry problem that pops up three times a month under the light of the full moon. Yes, Jamison Stemwinder was confirmed as a werewolf by the team of Aurors who descended upon the spot of a disturbance outside of Chiltern Hills._

_But, before you leap for your family silverware and attempt to storm the Ministry, let me tell you about this werewolf. He is a father of a beautiful little girl named Victoria— a girl who, despite the affliction of her father's, refused to see him a beast._

_(inserted picture of werewolf being glomped by young girl as she is petting his ears)_

_Jamison Stemwinder, who has been a werewolf since he was bitten by Fenrir Greyback as a young child, has been a secret lycanthrope for decades. Until recently, Jamison has changed in secret, locking himself away in both a cage in the basement and sequestering himself in isolated woods away from people. That is, it was a secret until last night, when Ministry Official Dolores Umbridge used his daughter to track him down and then attempted to hold her there in a plan to ruin Stemwinder's name as well as out him as a "filthy halfbreed."_

_The plan did not go as planned, my friends, for Umbridge herself had a secret of her own— a secret so deep that she did not even realise it herself. As the moon rose in the evening sky, Jamison turned into a werewolf, but Dolores turned into what has been verified as the world's first confirmed case of weredogism. Dolores Umbridge is a were-poodle._

_(insert picture of slavering, crazed poodle creature throwing itself at the cage bars)_

_Jamison, having taken the Wolfsbane Potion dutifully since it's release to the public, retained enough awareness of his daughter to attack the threat to his kin, but even more amazing is the fact that once Umbridge was taken out of the running, he allowed his daughter to embrace him. The werewolf, seemingly content with the danger to his family gone, even allowed the Aurors to inspect him. _

_Jamison was watched throughout the evening until sunrise by a team of Aurors, and the embarrassed wizard burst into tears when his daughter was there to greet him, perfectly unharmed and boasting that "her daddy was the best wolf daddy ever."_

_Aurors that were with him, uncaged, all night, testified that the werewolf showed no hostility to humans, and the Muggles who had tried to save the girl from Umbridge, testified that the wolf had saved the girl and them from the "rabid dog's" attacks. The Muggles gave a complete testimony to the "unbelievable" evening shortly before the Obliviation team took them away to tend to their memories of the incident and quietly weave them back into town. One of the victims, however, is being held in an isolated room in St Mungos to tend to the bite he received while defending the girl. Healers are worried that whatever had caused Umbridge to turn into a slavering beast on the full moon could be contagious._

_Dolores Umbridge is being held in an isolated holding cell at the Auror Headquarters for the next few nights of the full moon. They have administered the Wolfsbane potion to test if it helps weredogism as it does the werewolf, but an interview with the Auror's Potion Master was less than hopeful._

"_Werewolves are a delicate balance to treat," Master Raspin Brambleberry said in an interview. "It is the reason the Wolfsbane Potion is so phenomenal. Everything has to be just right, and the potion was crafted for a werewolf, not a weredog. They may be related, but related may not be enough. I will have to meet with Master Barberry, McGonagall, and their Apprentices to be sure."_

_Umbridge woke in the morning with no memory of her night's activities, and perhaps this is for the better. Traces on her wand have placed her back in Hathersage, the place of the gruesome summer camp murders, at the time when the murders were committed. Her wanderings nearby Castleton the next morning, seems to confirm that the woman was responsible for the killings once thought to be the work of Fenrir Greyback._

_It is currently unknown, but speculated, that Umbridge may have been bitten and infected shortly after standing up for her idea that all werewolves needed to be moved out of the Country where they could "no longer harm anyone." Her tune, however, in the face of her exposed poodle alterego, has changed into a panicked outcry for mercy._

_Thanks to laws that Umbridge herself has brought into play, she will be tried immediately, ironically not for being a beast, but for both the murders of the Muggles in Hathersage, use of forbidden spells on a minor, attempted extortion of a Ministry official, and attempts to bribe Aurors in an effort to let her go._

_Even more ironically, in investigating Madam Umbridge's record and attempt to contact her next of kin, is has been discovered that Umbridge herself is born of both magical and Muggle parents, making her crusade against half-breeds and half-bloods all the more questionable._

_Her popularity amongst the rising Mr Fudge, who had his eyes set upon the goal of becoming the next Minister of Magic, has cast dark light indeed upon his cabinet and the man himself. Many of the laws and acts put into motion by Umbridge and Fudge are being retro-inspected for legitimacy. Some have already been found to have been signed into law "under-the-table."_

_One such law, that was in the works, is the law stating that no person confirmed to be a werewolf should be permitted to work. The law states that all werewolves are a danger to society, families, and children and should be forbidden to work around any of the above. This law, in light of the Wolfsbane Potion, and countless accounts of how it has helped hundreds of afflicted victims across Europe, has been struck down by the Ministry. Popularity of Mr Fudge has also declined with the exposure of his hidden laws and job discrimination._

_Mr Stemwinder, however, has been heralded as a hero. His selfless act to protect his daughter and the positive response to the Aurors while in his wolf form has given such hope to the werewolf population that now even more werewolves are stepping up to get on waiting lists for the Wolfsbane Potion._

_The creators to the potion have been approached by a number of well known global apothecary that wish to assist in the distribution of the potion to a wider populous. Masters from the Potion Mastery Board are assisting the creators of the potion in the legal works of doing so as well as the delicate negotiations for permission to harvest the necessary ingredients in the wild. _

_Brambles, Vines, and Yew International has already signed on a extensive and lucrative contract to provide their extensive resources to their ingredients in exchange for the right to distribute to a number of their charity organizations in outreach communities across the world as well as a number of traveling healers whose jobs are specifically tailored to find cases of magical curses, hexes, and ailments of a magical nature amongst the Muggle community._

_Aurors are cautioning those werewolves out there who have not stepped up to either pay for the potion or get on the waiting list for the outreach programs for those who cannot afford it, to think of their loved ones. _

"_Had Mr Stemwinder not been taking the Wolfsbane potion before his change, there is not telling what damage could have been done. It's bad enough that we have one Muggle mauled by a were-poodle that may or may not be infections, but if you are bitten by both? What would we have had to deal with? It could have been a massacre! We could have were-wolfdogs on our hands!" one Healer exclaimed. "As if werewolves weren't enough!"_

_The Potion Mastery Board has set up a donation fund for werewolves in need to help cover the cost of potion distribution to those in need. All proceeds will go into supplies needed for the time and supplies needed to distribute the potion. Donations of funds as well as supplies are also accepted. A potion flask recycling program has been set up. Those donating used flasks will receive vouchers for 20% off all local (London) apothecaries purchases thanks to an unprecedented show of solidarity between the local potioneers, apothecaries, and the Potion Mastery Board. People are encouraged to drop off or send their donations at the Potion Mastery Board offices at the London Location._

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_(Distributed via the underground and via werewolf to werewolf, charmed to only be visible by werewolves)_

_**First Ever Werewolf Sanctuary and Nature Preserve Opened in Wales**_

_**by Harcourt Warmhearth**_

_Thanks to a generous donation of land and resources, the first ever werewolf sanctuary has been opened in Wales. Thousands of acres of land have been been registered under cooperation with Muggle and Wizarding authorities to create what is the first wildlife preserve and werewolf refuge. _

_On paper, this plentiful acreage houses a glorious nature preserve dedicated to preservation of species and education of visitors. But, when the preserve closes for the night on nights of the full moon, this preserve becomes the first and only safe haven for werewolves to transform and socialise without fear of harming the public. The protected areas are protected both by physical and magical means and sport the first and only known cooperation with a local centaur herd, who provide protection of the preserve and the inner sanctuary both day and night._

_Benefits include secure areas that are protected from the public, both Muggle or Wizarding, extensive lands in which to roam, and access to the Wolfsbane Potion, and family viewing and lodging areas for those who desire their family close but not too close during the full moons, and support for werewolves and their families. _

_The grounds are tended by centaur, Animagi, and werewolves, making it a safe and understanding place for all those afflicted with lycanthropy to find peace and not worry as to where to change and if it will be safe._

_Those wishing to take advantage of this unique opportunity or wish to apply for one of the staffing positions may contact me via owl, and we can arrange for an interview and information exchange._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Lycanthropy and Animagi: a Symbiotic Relationship**_

_**by Apprentices Black, Lupin, and Snape**_

_(Printed in the Journal of Mastery Fall Edition)_

_Lycanthropy, or the condition that turns a man or woman into a wolf-like creature, has rarely been studied closely due to the violent nature of both the change and the resulting transformed creature to any and all humans. The werewolf's violence against humans, painful transformations, and inability to tell friend from foe have been one of the most pervading truths in the Wizarding world until now._

_Werewolves, like their wild brethren, the wolf, are social creatures. They form packs, and when packs are not around, they seek that social connection with a fanatical hunger. The pack is life to the werewolf, and a lone werewolf can be driven into madness. A lone werewolf is an unnatural state. It craves company. It craves the feel of its pack, the warmth of a fellow, and the feeling of a home territory where it is safe. The lone werewolf is drive to have company, and without it, it is driven to create it. The longer the werewolf goes without this intrinsic pack, the more violent and insane the desperation to create that pack the wolf experiences._

_Enter, the violent werewolf of legend. This werewolf is so maddened by loneliness, that it lashes out at humans, perhaps due to some vague remembrance that its human counterpart was able to be social with such "creatures." In biting a human, the werewolf is able to transfer the most dangerous infection: the change into another werewolf._

_It is our belief, from the study of multiple werewolves who volunteered for our study, some who had taken the Wolfsbane Potion and some who either abstained or refused it for personal reasons, that the werewolf's natural state is pack-focused. A werewolf must be a member of a pack to be truly stable, peaceful, and content. A werewolf who is in this more natural state no longer has the madness. It does not bite and attack without a threat to its home or pack, and more importantly, those bitten by a werewolf that is at peace is not contagious._

_Due to a few bites that occurred due to some protests and riots that happened after the release of the Wolfsbane Potion, many expected there to be a large influx of new werewolves. Miraculously, however, werewolves that were are at peace, either with the bond of their pack or by taking the Potion, are not infectious. This put a great new understanding on the true nature of lycanthropy._

_The transmission of the disease is fueled by the desire to be content. The discontent is actually a cry for help and a need for companionship. The beauty of the Wolfsbane Potion is that is bridges the human ability to be content in being alone to the wolf. The human, while social, can enjoy peace in solitude. The wolf, however, was never meant to be alone for long. A lone wolf rarely survived long against those with packs and territory._

_It is important to note that simply throwing a bunch of werewolves together does not guarantee a pack being formed. A pack is created by trusting social bonds, and that takes time. We have found through our study that it can be hastened by having interactions between an Animagus and the werewolf in question. If there is a trusting bond between both, a pack bond can form. Can is the operative word, as it is not guaranteed._

_What seems to be required is a symbiotic relationship between the werewolf and the Animagus. The werewolf is not a human trapped in a wolf body. The werewolf is a creature that is almost a wolf with a touch of humanity. The wolf can leak into the human side just as the human can seep into the werewolf. This relationship can go both ways._

_The longer the werewolf is "alone" the more likely the madness of the wolf will show in the human side. The more stable the human side, the easier it is for the wolf to find peace. The problem seems to be that the longer the werewolf is alone and has no avenue of expression outside of the three nights of the full moon, the worse the balance between the two aspects becomes. _

_The significance of this study is that stable, pack-bonded werewolves, whether with werewolves or Animagi, no longer require the Wolfsbane potion. It is not a cure, but it is permanent solution. This gives families with werewolves new hope that they can be a part of the solution. The training for becoming an Animagus by significant others, friends, or older children who are focused enough to undergo the lessons could offer not only something crucial for the werewolf but a significant bond between the werewolf and the Animagus. It's true that the potion can offer a solution for those unable to make such a time commitment or are unable to invest the time into having long-term relationships or friendships, but the almost symbiotic relationship between a healthy werewolf's human and wolf sides is just as important as the one between the werewolf and its "pack."_

_While our studies on the subject are far from exclusive or final, it is clear that more research is now much more easily obtained without the same fear that once plagued the study of werewolves. We are not saying that all werewolves are safe to study, but with the use of the Wolfsbane Potion and Animagus forms, the ability of conducting more purposeful studies is much more positive. _

_(Correspondence regarding this study may be sent in care of Masters Barberry and McGonagall at the Mastery Board, London)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Our Master is rampaging through Hogwarts," Remus said as he passed by Hermione and Severus on on his way to the Gryffindor table. "Blame Frank."

Severus arched a brow.

Hermione slid her eyes over to give Severus a side-long glance. "Our Master rampages?"

Severus shook his head.

"Your hair smells like lavender," Hermione said.

"You…" Severus began, "are smelling my hair?"

"I can't help it, Severus," Hermione huffed. "It's right there and the scent is very strong."

Severus sighed, pointing the end of his fork towards Gryffindor's table, specifically where Lily was sitting, chatting away with her friends.

Hermione clucked her tongue. "You really need to keep her away from your hair, Severus."

"One day, I'm hoping she gets it right," he grunted a reply.

Hermione chuckled into her hand.

Severus sighed.

"They published our article in the Journal of Mastery," Hermione said, distracting him. "Did you see it?"

Severus perked. "Really?"

Hermione smiled at him. "Really!"

Severus seemed to cheer up. "I hope it helps Remus with his father's opinion of lycanthropy."

"I'm not sure anything can, but I do too," Hermione agreed. "We've already helped so many people, Severus. Saved lives, families…"

"Hermione," Severus said suddenly, his black eyes locking on hers grey ones. "Why did you befriend us? You could have been friends with anyone. Why us? Why me? Why Remus?"

Hermione closed her eyes, pursing her lips together. "Walk with me?"

Severus nodded and followed her out of the Great Hall.

"One day, I woke up thinking I had another life," Hermione began. "A life when a Dark Lord rose under the cover of rumour and sweet lies to those whose traditions eroding in favour of new ways." Hermione gazed over the Black Lake.

"It was so real, the memories," Hermione said. "Every time I woke up, I expected to be somewhere else—be… someone else. My family is prone to madness. I'm sure you've heard of my wonderful cousin, Bellatrix. She's been loony as a March hare since she fell out of her crib at the age of two. Father says Cygnus dropped her as a child… on her head."

Severus sputtered. "I hope never to meet her, " he said, tugging on his collar.

Hermione laughed. "I figured it was my own personal insanity— a gift of being born into the House of Black. Every one of us has something odd about us."

"Could explain some things about your twin," Severus quipped.

"Severus!" Hermione huffed, shoving his shoulder, but she laughed all the same. Hermione stared into Severus' face, looking into his eyes as she swallowed hard. "In my memories, you were older, more bitter, jaded, guarded, and… cruel."

Severus frowned, but said nothing.

"Remus was also older," Hermione said. "He was haunted, unhealthy, scarred, and yet, he had a kind soul. You didn't like him for some reason. You hated Sirius. There were many people who believed you hated everyone."

"Did I hate you?" Severus asked. His face told her that he wanted her to say no and that she had been the exception.

Hermione looked down. "I don't think you hated me, specifically. You called me insufferable. You said unkind things, but you said unkind things to everyone."

Severus flinched, pain flickering across his eyes.

"In the end, Severus, you taught me many things. We reconciled, but I had to grow up first." Hermione said. 'And you had to die,' she added mentally, wincing.

"So you befriended us because of some vision? A memory of some possible other life?" Severus asked, his voice bitter. He had never been one to accept pity, and he handled it just the same regardless of timeline.

Hermione shook her head. "Do you want to know why I befriended you, Severus? The real reason?"

Severus nodded, bracing himself for some bitter truth.

"You said yes when I asked you to be my friend," Hermione said truthfully. She placed her hand over his and looked into his face with a serious expression.

Severus stared at her, a variety of emotions flickered across his eyes. He was both so like his older self and so very different at the same time. Many of the things that had gone into the making of the Professor Snape she remembered had not happened yet. She hoped, fervently, that they wouldn't.

Despite the same beginning as Professor Snape, this younger Severus had not been as damaged as his older and more guarded self. He was willing to chew on things before snapping out a response with scathing heat. "I cannot imagine hating you," he said softly, his eyes flickering with his epiphany.

Hermione met his gaze, her expression warm as her hand squeezed his lightly. "I pray you never do."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Rita Skeeter was in a bit of a pickle. Having become somewhat of a glutton for reputation publicity after her article about Jamison Stemwinder, the werewolf hero, she had managed to land an interview with Master Barberry and his Apprentices. The interview had gone exceedingly well, but Rita hadn't been satisfied with leaving it there. She had wanted to know what just about everyone in the Wizarding world wanted to know: what the three apprentices of Master Barberry did that made them so special.

What she hadn't counted on were the animals.

A large brown bat had homed in on her. Had she been in the forest, she might have been more paranoid, but this one had apparently been roosting somewhere nearby, somehow knew she was there, and flew through the open window and landed on her with a series of clicks and whistles. She had a little warning, but she wasn't nearly fast enough. The bat was in the process of ripping off her wing covers when a large hand came down from out of nowhere.

"Octavius," Master Barberry chuckled. "What have you found?"

The brown-coloured bat squeaked indignantly as Barberry plucked Rita out from under him. He deftly gave the bat a fat moth, and the bat tore into it with ravenous gusto, causing Rita to cringe as the sounds of the bat's crunching made her think of what it would have done to her.

"Hrm, fascinating colour," Barberry commented. "Odd markings." He clutched the beetle between his fingers firmly and carried her into the next room.

Octavius, who seemed really interested in getting back to Rita, clung to Master Barberry's robes and squeaked excitedly. The Master chuckled and transferred the excited bat to his shoulder.

"My children, I have something for you," Master Barberry announced. "Hermione, would you please get me the jar up at the top of that shelf there?"

"The unbreakable one, Master?"

"Indeed," Gilford said with a smile.

Rita squirmed frantically to get free.

Gilford whispered something under his breath, and Rita found herself frozen in place. He plunked her into the jar and sealed the top. "There now, young Remus, could you poke some holes in this lid? Careful now, we wouldn't want to accidentally stab our little friend here."

Rita twitched inside the jar, able to move, but now not wanting to, least Remus slip with the awl and stab her with it.

"Now, Severus, you work on that spell I taught you?"

"Yes, Master," Severus answered.

"Try it on our beetle friend, will you please?"

Severus nodded, took out his wand, and did some incantations and wand movements.

Rita skittered around the jar frantically.

"It's done, Master," Severus said.

"Ah, good," Barberry said. "Test it for us, will you, Remus?"

Remus nodded. "It's working, Master."

"Hermione, can you explain how it works for me?" Barberry asked.

"The trace is a modified identification spell, much like the detection of humans in an area, only it is more focused and attuned to a particular energy signature or identity," Hermione said in a whirlwind.

"Good, and why is this important, Severus?"

Severus stared at the beetle. "Well, if it was used on a human, it would be like the spell they use to tell when underaged children cast spells outside of Hogwarts. The spell would report the spell, proximity, and telemetry information back to the caster, a specially enchanted notebook, or both."

"Very good, Severus," Barberry said with a nod. "And where are you having it record the information for our little experiment, Severus?"

"To a notebook in Mr Schattenjäger's records vault at the Auror's office," Severus said with a twitch of his lips.

The beetle in the jar went very, very still.

Barberry laughed. "Poor Klaus," he chuckled. "You will write a message to him letting him know why there is a notebook quilling away with random factoids about beetles in his records, yes?"

Severus beamed at his Master, as if a halo was forming over his hair. "Of course, my Master."

Octavius squeaked, wing-walking down Barberry's robes towards the beetle in the jar.

"He's really wanting that beetle, Master," Remus said.

Barberry chuckled. "Aye. He loves beetles and moths. Beetles are his favourite food. The colouring on this beetle is so distinctive. Look at the markings around the eyes. They are like spectacles. I'm tempted to preserve it in alcohol and pin it for display. Master Glitterwing loves to collect exotic specimens for her classes."

The beetle in the jar spazzed out.

"Ah, look at me, talking away," Barberry laughed. "Take it outside the property and release it before Octavius catches on. What he does outside the property is his business. I can't very well punish a bat for being a bat, now can I?"

The trio laughed and nodded.

"Remus, please release our poor test victim," Barberry clucked. "We can ask Klaus to see his logs in a month to discover the wonders of the beetle world and what they do when we aren't looking."

The young werewolf nodded and scurried off with the jar.

Octavius squeaked sadly as he dangled off Barberry's sleeve.

"Poor thing," Barberry laughed, petting the bat between the ears. "I'm sure the children would love to help you catch some tasty garden moths and beetles to placate your endless hunger."

Hermione and Severus smiled as Barberry transferred the flying rodent to Severus' hands.

"Don't let him get too fat, children," Barberry chuckled. "Remember, tonight we have a trip into town."

"Yes, Master," the duo chimed, carrying off the squeaking, hungry bat.

Barberry's lips quirked upward. "It could have been far worse for you, Ms Skeeter. I'll be watching you— and now, so will they."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_(message written in block letters with Genero-Script Quill on a piece of worn generic parchment)_

_Dear Ms Skeeter,_

_It has come to my attention that you have visited the offices of the Ministry as well as some of the conjoining organisations on a number of occasions within the last year both unauthorised and uninvited. _

_Seeing to the sensitive information that is held within, I'm sure you can understand my… concern over your strange presence there and your lack of signing in on any of the logs or the fact that no one seems to recall you being there._

_Strangely, your articles in the Daily Prophet have pointed towards information that no one outside the offices should know. I know this because there was certain information circulating specifically to tell where the leak was. _

_Seeing as Mrs Fitzgibbons has been blind since birth, the memo on her desk went to no one else. She didn't even know it was there, yet, somehow, you did, Ms Skeeter._

_Are your feet itching, Ms Skeeter? Are your ears burning?_

_I will tell you, Ms Skeeter that you are not as stealthy as you think you are, and now that I know it is you, well, let us just say I know a few things about you that the Aurors would love to know. I also know a few things the Animagus registry would love to know._

_Let me wish you well on a very clean cut career, Ms Skeeter. You started with a wonderful tale of real life heroism. I hope this trend continues. Show the world that you do not need sensationalism to report wondrous stories. _

_Prove to me that I don't have to remember that you paid off Marovan Deeks to get into the archives, that you sneaked into the Ministry and the Auror's Office as an illegal Animagus and spied on their affairs. _

_Enjoy your smashing career, Ms Skeeter._

_I will be watching you with avid interest._

_(parchment bursts into flames)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Fawkes chirped pleasantly from Severus' shoulder, his tail swishing back and forth as it trained down his back.

"Severus, how did you get a phoenix?" one of the first years begged the question.

"He's not mine," Severus said, stabbing a piece of steak with his fork.

Fawkes eyed his fruit salad expectantly, warbling.

Severus sighed and fingered the bird a slice of peach from his salad bowl.

Fawkes warbled happily, munching on the peach slice.

"If he's not yours, why is it on your shoulder, Snape?" one of the Ravenclaws pestered.

"Phoenix free will," Severus grunted, trying to eat a strawberry, but had it snatched by a seeking phoenix beak. The boy wizard glared at the bird. The bird stared back at him sweetly.

"Menace," Severus accused.

Fawkes chirped.

Remus walked by, leaning down to whisper something into Severus' ear.

Severus's eyebrows shoot into his hair. "You've got to be kidding."

Remus shook his head. "Lily managed to throw the cauldron she and Frank were working on clear of the class, but… it rolled out into the hallway and blew up on the passing professors."

"Are they all right?" Severus asked. "Did you tell our Master?"

"Our Master was one of the ones it blew up on," Remus said sheepishly.

Severus blinked. "What was in the cauldron, Remus?"

Remus shook his head. "We don't know, but…"

"MEOW!" a rumbling roar of a meow shook the walls.

Everyone in the Great Hall turned their heads to look out in the hallway corridor.

A giant silver tabby was carrying an elder wizard by the robes. Two other giant cats, a brown tortoiseshell shorthair and and black and white tuxedo cat was trailing after her. All three were gargantuan.

"Minerva!" Dumbledore yelled as he squirmed. The silver tabby had him pinned in her mouth, his hands and arms very effectively useless.

The other two giant cats were tugging on the wizard in her mouth, looking like they wanted their chance at carrying the disheveled wizard too. They padded out the main doors to the outside, meowing loudly.

"Professor McGonagall!" Frank Longbottom was trailing behind the three cats crying out and waving his hands. "Merlin! Madam Hooch! Professor Flitwick! Come back! We need to get you to the hospital ward—"

Severus looked towards Remus who looked at Fawkes. The phoenix chirped quizzically.

"Aren't you going to help your master?" Severus asked the phoenix.

Fawkes raised his head crest and warbled. The phoenix didn't seem to think the Headmaster was in need of his help and seemed to shrug his feathered shoulders. His head crest moved up and down in curiosity.

"Traitor," Severus quipped at the phoenix.

"Wise bird knows when to keep his beak out of it, Severus," Remus grinned.

"Hrmph," Severus replied. "Speaking of beaks, where is our compatriot?"

"Master McGonagall sent Hermione off to deliver a message to the other Masters about our revised class schedule," Remus said.

At that moment, the black and white tuxedo cat that may or may not have been Professor Flitwick chose that minute to push his huge feline head through the double doors to the Great Hall.

The entire Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables went "awww" at exactly the same time.

"AAEEGHHHHHH!" a male student screamed.

There was a crash from the Gryffindor tables. A small crowd of students surrounded someone.

"What's going on over there?" Lucius asked, "and why is there a giant black and white cat roaming Hogwarts?" The blond Slytherin was rubbing the area between his eyes like he had a headache. "I know I'm going to regret this—" Lucius walked over to the Gryffindor table, pausing to speak with the other prefects. The Head Girl was rushing over to the Head Table while the Head Boy was gesturing wildly under the table and talking with the prefects.

More and more students were gathering around.

A few of the girls screamed. One of them fainted. A few people dragged the fainted student away from the group as others echoed the scream.

"Merlin!" one of the prefects uttered, herding the younger students away.

Remus and Severus exchanged glances and wondered what could possibly be more chaotic than three of their professors rampaging Hogwarts as giant cats. They made their way over over to the Gryffindor table, just as Sirius leapt out from under the table with a yell.

"Ow!" he exclaimed as he held his arm with his opposing hand. "The bloody git bit me!"

Potter was half under the desk. "Come on, Peter, it was just our professors hit with one of Longbottom's potion explosions. Just come on out—"

There was a crashing sound and the bench went flying as James came tumbling out, cradling his hand too.

"Bloody hell!" Potter yelled, smashing his head on the underside of the table as he stumbled out, cradling his hand. His hand was bleeding profusely where a bite had laid open his palm.

Professors from up the High Table were now rushing forward to the commotion. Some were leaving the Great Hall in pursuit of the three giant cats and the feline-abducted Dumbledore, and some were hurrying to see what had just happened at the Gryffindor table.

Regulus materialised out from the crowd and shook his head at Remus and Severus. "You will not believe what is crawling around under the Gryffindor table!" exclaimed Regulus as he gesticulated wildly. He tugged the duo closer to the table.

By this time, however, Professor Silvanus Kettleburn had thrown a stunner under the table while Professor Babbling levitated the target of Kettleburn's stunning spell. The pair of them guided the limp body out the Great Hall and towards the infirmary.

Headmaster Dumbledore walked in the main doors to the Great Hall with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick following behind looking like the cats that had eaten the canary and with Madam Hooch following behind as she unruffled her robes. The gigantic catification potion explosion had apparently worn off just in time for them to return as Kettleburn and Babbling guided their stunned student to the infirmary.

Students gasped, pointed, and whispered as everyone saw their professors guide out the body of one Peter Pettigrew. It wasn't that the boy had apparently bitten his friends as he hid under the Gryffindor table that had everyone's attention, nor was it the dangling of his solid metal replacement foot. As Peter hung suspended in the air, limp as an overcooked noodle, a long, pseudo-scaled and slightly furry rat's tail squirmed its way out of his britches and twitched back and forth like the writhings of a worm in freshly dug earth.

"Did you slip him some spiked cheese, James?" Sirius asked, still clutching his wounded arm.

James winced as he held his wounded hand and shook his head. "No, mate. I swear it wasn't me."

Chatter spread through the Great Hall as one of the unoccupied professors escorted both wounded boys and the handful of other students wounded in the scuffle to the Hospital Wing. The Prefects began to settle the room down for the rest of the dinner hour.

It took all of three minutes for Peter Pettigrew to be known as "Wormtail" to the entirety of the Hogwarts' student body. It took another three days to convince him to come out from under the hospital bed and stop hoarding cheese, mushrooms, a pile of fruit, seeds, and chocolate frogs in his pillowcase.

Needless to say, if the boy had ever had any chances of having a dating life before the incident, they tanked quite significantly after the incident in the Great Hall. The only witches that seemed to be willing to even sit around him were Lily and Alice and a handful of Ravenclaws who were far more interested in studying him for curiosity's sake than for his value as a person.

Perhaps, had Peter been anything resembling a normal twelve year old boy, the ostracisation would have bothered him. Peter, however, was far more interested in hoarding food and hiding from his Head of House, who he was convinced was trying to kill him. To make matters even more volatile, every time he went to flying class with Madam Hooch or charms class with Professor Flitwick, it took the combined strength of James and Sirius in combination with Lily's gentle coaxing to get him out from under his desk and convince him that they weren't going to turn into giant feline predators before his eyes.

If there was any doubt as to his lack of "manliness," every time someone had their feline familiar around or if he happened to run into one roaming the halls, it would trigger Peter babbling incoherently, chittering with his hands up to his face, and end with him diving into a closet or under a desk, bed, or behind a curtain.

James and Sirius began to work even harder on their idea of a tracking map thanks to Peter hiding himself away throughout Hogwarts. Curtains, nooks, crannies, broom closets, and pantries in the kitchens were part of a growing list of places Peter would sequester himself. Tired of losing points from patrolling professors catching Peter in places he was not supposed to be, Gryffindor House enchanted a bell collar with no latch around Peter's neck specifically for the purpose of keeping tabs on him.

It was around the time that they finally managed to get Peter sitting at a desk properly for the entire class period that Sirius made another important discovery. As Sagacity flew in to deliver a scroll from Hermione, Peter seemed to realise that owls ate rodents, and unlike the situation with giant and unnaturally-sized felines, owls were everywhere in Hogwarts.

They were all watching him.

Peter hadn't stopped screaming since.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Weredog Poodle Strain found to be Non-Contagious**_

_After extensive testing and observation from unintentional bites from Madam Dolores Umbridge in her historical outing as the world's first known weredog/poodle, officials have said the strain is not contagious like typical lycanthropy._

"_Whatever mutation has caused this new type of moon-shift, it has rendered Madam Umbridge both extremely violent, more so than the typical werewolf, and she is not contagious," Healer Redwood stated. "Whatever has happened to create her condition, there is nothing quite like it in our history. Once changed, she is unquestionably violent to the point of seeming rabid. She attacks anything and everyone. Nothing is exempt from her violent attacks."_

"_We have taken molds of her bite, and there is no question that she was the one responsible for the massacre of the summer camp in Heathrow," Auror Jenkins stated to the public. "It took the Wizengamot a total of twenty minutes to find her guilty of several counts of murder, public endangerment, violations of the Statute of Secrecy, and unlawful law-crafting."_

_Madam Umbridge has been sentenced to life in Azkaban in a special enchanted and protective cell due to her monthly untreatable condition._

"_The Wolfsbane Potion did not work in her case," Potion Master Veruca Kettleshine said in an interview. "I am in contact with the creators of the Wolfsbane Potion in an effort to make a custom potion that will work for were-canines such as Madam Umbridge, but as we have no other were-canines to compare her with, we have no idea if her condition can be treated with potions."_

"_I'm just glad I'm not going to turn into one of those slavering beast-dogs," Auror Greenwald confessed as he cradled his savaged arm. "It took ten of us hitting her with a stunner to move her to her cell in Azkaban."_

_Apparently, Madam Umbridge's condition is also aggravated by anything "stressful." Any emotional surges, whether positive or negative, provokes the transformation, making her prospect for release, even without her current life sentence, quite impossible. Ironically, the very werewolves she was spending her time protesting against are far more treatable and stable than her._

_All attempts to interview Madam Umbridge have, unfortunately, provoked her involuntary transformation, and visitors have been restricted to healers, Aurors, and judiciary officials for the safety of all._

_Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophies, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, who was once one of Madam Umbridge's stalwart supporters, has been under quite a bit of scrutiny due to Madam Umbridge's activities. Current Minister of Magic, Eugenia Jenkins, who has had her hands full with the aftermaths of the Squib Rights marches of the 60's, had ordered that all recently passed laws within the last decade be re-examined for legitimacy and proper support, signatures, and record of voting. Her assistant and Junior Minister, Harold Minchum, has already volunteered many extra hours of his time to assist Minister Jenkins in this momentous task._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dearest, my daughter,_

_Thanks to you, my young chick, and the hard work of your fellows and Masters, great honour has been bestowed to our family name. The hard work you have undertaken to stabilise Madam Umbridge, despite her crimes against the Wizarding world, has shown many that we value all life, regardless of how others may treat us. _

_Many of the older Pure-blood families rally under our banner, whatever cause we choose to follow, thanks to your hard work, respect for protocol, and selfless respect to your elders and superiors. People speak of you and your fellow apprentices with respect. People speak of your Masters as though they are gods walking the Earth and praising the bringing back of the old traditions of Master and Apprentice. For the first time in ages, when I speak at the Wizengamot, no one from Junior Minister Fudge's side of the room attempts to railroad me and bring up the unbecoming behaviour of your twin as the justification of ignoring my opinion._

_Your mother insists that I send you something appropriate for this occasion, and I have commissioned the very best apprenticeship robes for you and your fellow Apprentices. The three of you and your Masters have made many public appearances of late, and it would be wise to look as though we support you in every way, not that we don't, but you know the public. One thread out of line, and we are all damned as uncaring guttersnipes._

_I have taken the liberty, my daughter, of speaking to the Lupins on your behalf in regards to how we view the safety of his being associated with you, your friend Severus, or our family. I assure you, my daughter, there is not a stain upon us that your friend is a werewolf. He had no right to send you such a slanderous owl to tell you that his son was dangerous. I have watched the bonds of magic between you and your friends since the first day you introduced us. I will tell him, honestly, that whatever it is you have, it is the furthest from dangerous. It is, quite literally, magical, and no one of us would deny the bonds of true magic. Not I, nor your mother, would deny a magic-blessed friendship._

_Your mother, however, would hope for more than just a friendship in the long run, but we shall see, shan't we? Do not blush, my chick. It is a natural progression. If it happens, all I ask is that the kisses be bestowed properly that it will be a formal courtship. Whether that be in a year, two, or whenever suits your time frame. We cannot all be our Great-Great Aunt Matilda and elope at the age of fourteen, happen to kiss the one wizard that magically bound their magic together and end up siring a new family line in North America. She would have been far more well received, my chick, if she hadn't run off to the Americas. _

_I digress._

_I have sent funds to Hogwarts to pay for the damaged Quidditch pitch tower that your younger brother slammed into chasing a snitch. It does not surprise me that he found his calling to the skies from atop a broom. It also does not surprise me that he knocked over a watchtower trying to catch a snitch in order to impress the Quidditch team into taking him on. Not even one year into Hogwarts, and he's already trying to bring down the place like his brother. I was so hoping he would show a little of your restraint, my chick, but apparently we cannot have everything._

_As for the situation with your Headmaster's phoenix, there is the possibility, and I will not know for certain until I see the magical cords that bind you all, that your Headmaster never completely bonded to his phoenix friend as a familiar. It is equally possible that the phoenix has found your little friendly group a better vessel for his loyalty._

_The familiar bond has always been something profound and sacred, but it has not been entirely understood. Some say the familiar chooses the wizard or witch. Some say the opposite. Others still say it has to be a mutual need. Regardless, there is nothing that says the group of you cannot "share custody"as it were. It seems that the phoenix, Fawkes if I recall correctly, has decided that the lot of you are worth of his time, and that is a gift. _

_That being said, the fact you three can see "pictures" when he communicates with you, sense his emotions, and have him appear when you need him, it sounds like a familiar bond to me. You say he and Sagacity as well as he and Treacle seem to be getting along famously, and that is a good sign of a positive relationship. _

_Be wary, however, my chick. I caution you and your friends to be sure to impress upon Fawkes the need to "pretend" to remain the Headmaster's "pet" as it were. I am sure no wizard wants to think that his supposed familiar prefers the company of the three of you over him. Even if he suspects it, best not flaunt it to his face. He is still the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Best to wait until you are safely graduated before confirming that you have, inadvertently, "stolen his phoenix." It is not your fault, however, that he did not trust his bird enough to open himself to the full familiar bond. It is, however, a testament to you and your friends, that you not only could, but that you share it equally between you._

_You may, however, gloat in private. _

_I look forward to seeing you all home for the holiday. We have already sent invitations out for your Masters to join us for the Christmas holiday and dinner. _

_Your mother sends her love, as do I._

_Your loving father,_

_Orion Black (seal, the Belt of Orion) (seal of the House of Black) (slightly smooshed by a cat pawprint with bright orange hairs stuck in the wax)_

_(and Denoba, too, apparently, sends his love, my chick)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Mother and Grandmother Irene,_

_Thank you for the custom signet ring. It is very detailed and beautiful. I enjoyed our visit together, and I am much relieved that I will be able to call upon you in the future as time allows._

_Our work has been keeping us very busy. The work on the potion to help Madam Umbridge from randomly transforming every time she becomes emotional has been a very time consuming project. Her condition, I am sad to say, is not that of lycanthropy. There is no "balance" that the beast craves. There is no communication that will allow peace. All we can do is stabilise her moods to make it so only the moon-trigger is the main concern. _

_Our work has allowed us to meet with many other Masters in the field of Potions, Herbology, and Mind-Healing. It is with Damocles that we have had the best luck with coming up with a mood stabilising potion. It has also proven very effective in the treatment of many disorders at St Mungos, but drawback is it must be taken regularly. Madam Umbridge would have to take it regularly twice a day for the rest of her life. _

_My friend and fellow apprentice, Remus, has worked with Damocles in crafting what may be the first working medicine bracelet. When worn, it slowly dispenses the medication over time over a period of up to a month before having to be refilled. We have a few contacts within the Mastery Board that have said the implications of this sort of treatment could be used to treat other ailments with different sorts of potions, such as those who require pain medication after extensive burns.. If it works, it will be a great boon to our Master's credibility as well as ours. It will allow both Master Barberry and Master McGonagall to have leverage in pressing for our continued education under the older Master and Apprentice system._

_We will still have to take our O.W.L. and N.E.W.T.s under supervision of the Ministry, but the majority of our education, save those subjects that our Masters do not specifically wish to teach, will be at our Master's sides rather than at Hogwarts. We are very excited about the possibilities. It will allow us to remain at Hogwarts for our extra classes, but be directed and taught by our Masters for the subjects they can teach us themselves._

_My friend, Hermione, is not looking forward to having to sit through Divination. We are looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures next year. They say Professor Kettleburn has lost fingers, toes, and limbs while teaching his class, but part of us are wondering if that is because he's trying to save his students or because he is a risk taker. Either way, regardless of if the Apprenticeship becomes our main education or no, I am doing well. _

_I thank you again for generous support to my education, grandmother, and you, my mother, for trying to support me without bringing the wrath down upon either yourself or me. I can respect what you have done far more now that I am apart from the man you called husband and I called father. _

_Sincerely,_

_Severus (his seal, the eagle and the serpent)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_To Headmaster Dumbledore:_

_We have reviewed your request to reconsider a new Caretaker for the Hogwarts grounds on the suspicion that his arrival was conveniently synchronised to the cases of Malevolent Mixture, but the Board has found no flaws in the contract or breaches in the contract._

_In fact, we have realised that Mr Filch was housed in the wrong quarters within Hogwarts, and we have authorised his move into the Caretaker's quarters of the previous Caretaker._

_Mr Filch is not required to be magically inclined for his duties, and while you claim that the Malevolent mixture incidents were not an issue until he was on the grounds, we have checked the Auror reports of the first incidents of the Mixture and have realised that the incidents occurred before the arrival of Mr Filch to the Hogwarts staff. While your concerns that it was let in because he was unable to magically detect it may have had some truth to it, we are convinced multiple situations led to the infractions. Multiple checks could have been in place, as they are now, but were not. _

_We are confident, especially after seeing the marvelous work of Mr Filch in caring for and restoring the use of the West Wing where he had been living, that he will prove to be an excellent asset to the staff of Hogwarts. _

_We have authorised his application to have a familiar on the grounds, and have encouraged him to allow her to roam the grounds with the other familiars. It is our hope, that despite the rough start, that he becomes a valued team member of the Hogwarts staff_

_Sincerely,_

_Marcus Willowby_

_Hogwarts Board of Director's Chairman (Seal of Hogwarts Board of Directors)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Just as a note, I messed with Ariana's timeline of death a little to make things fit for the story. I think you probably understood why after reading the chapter. ;) Ariana's accident had made her ageless, but not immortal.


	31. Jaws of Sickness and Wings of Fate

**A/N:** As always, if you have questions or want to see what I'm up to in my head (warning, it's messy in there), you can reach me on **corvusdraconis. tumblr. com** (without the spaces).

I posted this chapter without supervision to make up for the long wait of the last chapter. All mistakes are my brain rebelling against everything.

**Trigger warning (reason why this is M rated):** There is mention of implied stockholm syndrome induced sex with minors because Fenrir is a despicable man. Nothing graphic and it's maybe one or two sentences at most, but a warning none the less.

**Chapter 31: The Jaws of Sickness**

_Dear Shannon,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. Things have been crazy since I started the new term at boarding school, and I'm sorry I haven't written as often as I promised I would. The address is strange, I know, but we do get the mail!_

_I'm so happy that you managed to convince your parents to let you take riding lessons! I would love to take lessons like that. Sometimes, I really miss being able to take things like that._

_This place is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but there are times when I really miss my friends. I wish you could see this place, Shannon. It has a view of this giant lake that is to die for. Our dormitories are high up. It's like living in the Tower of London, only instead of ravens we have owls._

_I've been really frustrated as of late. You know how we used to have those play tea parties and pretend to present ourselves to Court to the Queen or the King? We'd dress in those fancy dresses and parade around, dreaming of the time we would having our coming out in front of the Court like the Edwardian times? There are people here have all these rules on how to be proper. It's nothing like we dreamed it would be. It was so much more fun when we could make up the rules ourselves. _

_Reality is frustrating. _

_I've stepped on toes of people with influence. I don't mean to, really, but mum and dad always said we live in a modern world and have to be forward thinkers. We have to help others. I see what I'm working for as helping others, but then, when I come down off my high of being able to help someone else, I realised in doing so I've hurt other people or offended someone I could have just as easily not. Rules, customs, social graces… all of it seems to terribly backward. I shouldn't have to bow just so for someone to think me worth of speaking to. They should just know that I am!_

_You know, when I write that, I realise how arrogant I sound. I'm just as bad as I accuse some of them of being. I just feel like I've had to scrape and work and suffer for every little scrap I've been given while others just have to smile and make nice and it is all offered to them on a silver platter._

_Ugh, look at me. I'm a horrible person. I know in my heart that the people I envy are working just as hard if not harder than I to change their circumstances. I guess… I think I want to prove so hard to Petunia that I am not the worthless freak she thinks I am. _

_I'm glad you didn't believe Petunia when she called me a freak-loving witch. I couldn't bare to think you hated me because of her spiteful words. I really do miss you, and I wish I could show you some of these places. I wish… private school didn't have to be so far away. I want to go fetch ice cream with you and get one of those rootbeer floats you are always talking on about. I… want to do normal girl things and not have to worry about who I might offend. I'm such a whiner, I know. As much as I complain about it, I really do want to be a better person. I just wish I'd stop sabotaging myself._

_I'm sorry Petunia was mean to you. She wasn't like that all the time, but ever since I got my letter for private school, she hasn't forgiven me. I fear we'll never be close again. Every time I try to make up with her and say the things I know will make her happier, I end up hurting my friend, Severus. You remember him, don't you, Shannon? Black hair, black eyes, and that somewhat dour expression all the time? He's also going to school with me. I keep testing my hair care products on him. I don't tell him this, but… its the only way I feel like I can hold onto him—the last part of my childhood I still have. I don't want to grow up and change… but a part of me hungers for change. I want to make new friends, explore the world, fly in a giant balloon across the continent, and have people point up and say "It's Lily Evans! I want to be like her!" I don't want to be an anyone else's shadow. I don't want to be known as "oh that is one of Severus' friends" or "that is James' House-mate." I want to be Lily Evans. I want to be known for my own deeds._

_I feel myself drifting away from him. I feel like we don't share things in common anymore. He's always been that special friend from my past. Maybe, I'm so focused on what we were that I'm not willing to let him change, while I do want change. I'm such a bloody hypocrite. I wish you were here to beat sense into me like you used to. You were always good for a laugh and setting me straight, telling me when I was being selfish, or just giving me a hug when I really needed it. I could use one now. I think I've depressed myself._

_I want to hear all about your date with Johnny. I've enclosed a few bottles of my special shampoo and conditioner I and my friends made. We're really proud of it. Sorry for the glass bottles and all. We're really kinda old-fashioned here._

_I miss you. I hope to see you on Winter Break!_

_All my love,_

_Lily_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Lily,_

_E-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ee!_

_That shampoo and conditioner was perfect! I've never had more compliments on my hair before. Mind you, I never really cared what my hair looked like, but Johnny couldn't stop touching my hair. I owe you BIG TIME, Lily!_

_Mum says I'm too young to be worried about dating at my age, but I told her thirteen was a perfectly respectable time to be in love! Don't you agree!_

_(enclosed picture of Shannon and Johnny)_

_I was never one to believe Petunia's stories, Lily. No one that knows her does really. The new transfer student, Vernon, I think his name is, follows her around like a baby duck. He's a buffoon. He puffs out his chest and brags about every little thing, and Petunia believes him. No one really cares, though, because no one wants to hang out with Vernon anyway. Good riddance._

_Did you know he actually took a bicycle off some first year and gave it to Petunia as a gift? The poor girl he took it from was so traumatised that she wouldn't tell the Headmaster the truth. Vernon said she gave it to him, and she just cried and sobbed that "yes! yes! I gave it to him! Leave me alone!"_

_I don't know what to think of the boy other than I don't want him anywhere near me. His eating manners are atrocious._

_Anyway, we MUST get together this Christmas, Lily. Ring me the moment you are back! We have some catching up to do, and I want pictures!_

_XOXOXOXO_

_Shannon_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Fenrir Greyback was not one to bow to any man, Dark Lord or no, but The rising Dark Lord promised him something that he could not ignore: human prey.

Humans were the best kind of prey. Humans, if they survived the mauling, would turn and become one of his brethren. They would become his to control.

He preferred his bitten to be children. Biting them young allowed him to take them and raise them to hate " normal" wizards. The beauty of it was, they didn't not have to start wizards to become werewolves. All they had to be was human.

He was good about camping himself in places during full moons where he could infect more youth. Unlike his earlier years, where he bit them and let them turn first before seeking him out, now he dragged them into the wilds where we carved out a grand territory in the deeper Muggle forests. He found great irony that he was using Muggle-protected forests to hide his pack. The parks were vast, and no one suspected that the caves and caverns he had claimed were inhabited. They were well hidden in the nooks and crannies of the mountains.

Some of the children did not survive the bite. Either they did not survive long enough to turn and thus heal, or they didn't survive the initial attack at all. Children, or human in general, were pathetically fragile. It was a gift he was giving them, he had no doubt. The pain was the path of transcendence. Once the wolf was set free, more were bound to join them.

The newly turned were to terrible predictable like that. They always wanted two things: to sate the hunger and to create more werewolves.

Fenrir found it fitting. The more the better. Eventually they would be legion, and the Wizarding world would be forced to admit defeat. When the entirety of the U.K. was covered in werewolves, he would have all the power. He was stronger than the others. He welcomed the wolf. There would be no one else that could lead his people.

The Wolfsbane Potion was a joke. It was some sort of sedative instead of solution. It was snake oil under the cover of hype from some young team of wannabe potioneers. To top it all off, one of them was Remus Lupin: his old favourite victim.

Fenrir had been tracking the pup up until he was whisked away to Hogwart's. He had been so close to dragging him off to where he belonged, and where he belonged was with Fenrir. He would teach him to be a real wolf. The boy didn't need a school to teach him that. If he didn't submit right away, that was okay. Fenrir would beat the submission back into him. It was the way of the wild. It was his way.

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Friday, October 20th, 1972, Waxing gibbous 94%_

Remus hunkered down close to the ground, ears perked forward. Ahead of him was a great stag with a set of antlers that spanned so greatly that had he walked between the trees, he would have gotten stuck between them.

The stag walked slowly into the clearing as the does moved around him. The stag was old—far older than most stags ever were in the forest, but his time had come. A rival for the does had gored his leg, and he was limping. The wound was infected. The does of the season had his progeny growing in their bellies. His genetic legacy would live on long after him, but the old stag was soon going to fall in a cycle that had gone on since time immemorial. The next season, his rivals would fight over "his" does and plant their own genetic contribution to the species, but what he had given would never be lost. Hundreds of his kin spread through the forests that spread across Scotland.

As Remus watched the stag, his eyes bled into pure gold, and suddenly the phoenix and the eagle nearby became wolves in the grass with him. Their eyes glowed a bright brilliant gold in unison. Tendrils of magic solidified between them and wrapped around their conjoined auras. Tuft rose to the surface through Remus, the thrill and focus of the hunt luring the wolf to the surface like the breaching of a whale at the ocean's surface.

Tuft lead the pack forward, and the three of them moved through the grass in a triangle. They parted without a sound, circling the clearing from different angles, then, with a flash of gold between their eyes, they were off, tearing a path towards the wounded stag with a lethal determination.

Tuft leapt up and slammed into the stag's back, sinking his teeth into the spine in order to drag the stag down. Hermione leapt towards the throat, clamping her jaws around the windpipe and using her weight to pull it closed, dragging the stag forward to knock itself off its own feet. Severus clamped onto the rear leg with a crack, breaking the already weak leg in an instant.

The stag gave a bellow and went down, and as the three wolves remained utterly still as they used their weight to win the war of attrition, the shaft of a centaur arrow slammed into the stag's heart, and the once mighty animal fell still at last.

Meliton, leader of the centaurs of the Dark Forest, walked in as the wolves panted, their sides heaving. They eyed him, but did not release the grip on the stag's body. The elder centaur passed bundles of herbs to the younger centaur beside him. "Magorian, Firenze," Meliton said. "Bless the hunt and give thanks for our success."

The young chestnut centaur with a blaze on his head whickered, and lit the sage bundle in his hand and then blew it out so the smoke would carry. He waved it over the carcass. "Spirit of the stag, be at peace, for your life saves ours, and nothing shall be wasted. Even that which we do not eat and use shall be left for those who can that life may continue anew throughout the forest."

The young palomino centaur waved a burning braid of sweet smelling grass. "Thank you, forest brother, for feeding our families. We live because of you. Be a peace."

Meliton nodded, unsheathed a knife from the sheath he was wearing, and cleanly slit open the belly of the stag. He carefully fished out the choice parts and laid them to the side. "The heart and the most tender of the kill is yours, herd-brothers, herd-sister for your assistance."

Tuft released his grip on the stag's spine as Hermione let go of the neck and Severus let go of the rear leg. Their tongues lolled as they panted. Their eyes were still a brilliant, unearthly gold. Tuft whufted, tail wagging.

"But, Father," Magorian said with confusion. "The softest parts we save for our elders!"

Meliton stomped his hoof. "The leader of the hunt decides where his share may go. Are we to deny our allies their due for helping in the hunt?"

Magorian looked ashamed. "No, Father."

Tuft barked and grabbed the heart between his jaws. Hermione wrapped her jaws around the liver, and Severus grabbed the mass of other soft inner organs that Meliton had placed aside. Magorian looked conflicted, but Meliton nodded in approval. Yet, when all believed the Animagi were going to devour their right to the kill, Tuft took off into the forest, and the two black wolves followed.

Meliton furrowed his brows. "Solon, Theron, field dress the stag and bring it back to camp. I fear my curiosity is getting the better of me."

"Yes, Meliton," the two centaur replied, setting to work.

The two young centaur followed their leader as he followed the small pack that was also herd.

When they finally came to a halt, Meliton could hardly believe his eyes.

Three elder centaur lay by the fire, warming their old bones. Normally, the soft parts of the foods went to the elders. It was respectful and considerate. In leaner times, the young would pound the jerked meat between stones, grinding it until it was like a fine powder, but when the kill was fresh, the organ meats were highly prized. The elders had once been the best hunters of the herd, and it was to them the choice parts went. Meliton would never have expected those outside the herd, even those who were adopted in, to know the custom's significance.

Tuft, Hermione, and Severus lay at the feet of the elder centaur, tails beating against the ground as they offered their prizes to the elders. Moondance, Oakbend, and Riversong gently took the offerings in their hands and very slowly soothed the fur between each wolf's ears.

"Thank you, young hunters," the elder centaur said genuinely. "You warm our hearts with your thoughtfulness."

Meliton stood flabbergasted, jaw practically dropped to the ground.

Each of the elder's took a knife to their offering and cut a small piece off. They held it out to each wolf, and each wolf gently wrapped their teeth around the piece of flesh and made it disappear, licking the centaur's fingers clean of blood. Then, Tuft made a soft bark, and the three wolves darted off into the woods together, running by Meliton, Magorian, and Firenze. Their eyes glowed golden in the dimness of the forest shade.

"What just happened, Father?" Magorian asked.

"History, my son," the honey-coloured centaur answered. "The stuff songs are made of, young Magorian."

"Meliton," young Firenze said. "It is still daytime and the moon does not even hang in the sky. How is it our friends can remain as wolves?"

"Look to the sky when the night falls, young Firenze," Elder Moondance said as he skewered the meat in thin slices to place over the cooking fire. "Do you not remember what shares the skies with Centaurus?"

Firenze and Magorian exchanged shameful glances.

"Lupus shares the heavens with Centaurus, younglings," Elder Riversong chuckled as Moondance shook his head at the young colts. "Since the time when the stars were hung in the sky, the wolf and the centaur have hunted together in the southern summer sky."

"But, Elder," Magorian whined. "How can we see the southern constellations when we in the northern reaches?"

Elder Oakbend shook his mane and snorted. "Younglings, do you think that because you cannot see something that it is not there?

The young centaurs hung their heads together. "No, Elder Oakbend."

The bond between centaur and our allies remains strong, younglings," Riversong said. "We need not see it to know it exists. We can, however, treasure those times when proof comes knocking on our skulls."

Firenze and Magorian nodded and bowed to the elders of their herd. "Yes, Elders."

"Shoo, go fetch your herdmates and help Solon and Theron with the dressing of the carcass. The sinew must be dried, the antlers stored for tools, the bladder preserved, the gut cleaned and dried, and hide fleshed and tanned," Moondance admonished.

The two younglings dashed off down the trail with due haste.

Meliton gave the elders an amused glance. "You didn't know they were going to bring you that food either, did you, my Elders?" the centaur leader accused with amusement.

Oakbend whickered. "Just because we did not expect it did not make it less likely to happen."

Meliton laughed. "Spoken like a true centaur—legs in the here, tail in the past, head towards the skies, ears tuned to the future, and belly dipped in the Sea of Curiosity."

The elder centaur chuckled at him. "Well, we are centaur, Meliton. At least we aren't cats."

"Oh, how so?" Meliton asked.

"If the Sea of Curiosity comes up to our belly, how well do you think the cat would fare?"

Meliton whickered. "I suppose it depends on how well they could swim."

"Nay, Meliton," Oakbend chuckled. "It depends on how fast the cat remembers to climb up your legs, move to your mane, and sit between your ears."

Meliton snorted, shaking his mane. "I yield to your vast experience in such things."

The elders snickered amongst themselves. "Sometimes, Meliton, experience can only carry you so far. The rest we leave in Chiron's capable hands."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Come on, Regulus," Xander tugged on the youngest Black's sleeve. "No one is going to know. Slughorn is off schmoozing with his chosen elite, so he's never going to see us leave."

"My father already had to pay to repair the grandstand tower on the pitch," Regulus grunted. "Besides, first years are not allowed to have brooms."

"That's why we'll use my broom, Reg," Xander prodded. "I'm allowed to have one, and you'd just be tagging along, aye?"

Regulus gave Xander an odd look.

"Oh, come on Reg," the other boy said. "It's a party. We're not the only ones going!"

"Who is hosting this… party?" Regulus asked suspiciously.

"Stanford and Lilycut," Xander answered. "They have a nice little place on the far side of Hogsmeade, near that old fart who likes his goats."

"Really likes him his goats," Pennyworth snickered, ribbing Regulus with his elbow.

"Ugh!" Regulus grunted. "Now I definitely don't want to go. That's the last thing I want to see."

"We're not going in that place!" Xander exclaimed, smacking Pennyworth upside the head and mouthing "shut it." "We're going near that place. Look, we're not the only ones going. Vesper from Ravensclaw is bringing a bunch of their folks, and Marcus from Hufflepuff has a number of blokes coming. It's going to be great fun!"

Regulus narrowed his eyes.

"Come to this one, Reg," Xander moaned. "I promise, if you hate it, I'll never ask you to come again. We'll be back before bed check, so the Prince won't even know we're gone."

Treacle meowed pitifully from Regulus' lap, and the boy pet her head gently.

"You've been complaining for weeks that you've felt like you're not a part of anything," Pennyworth grunted. "You have no right to complain when we do ask you to come have some fun with us and you turn us down."

Regulus stared across the Slytherin Common Room. "A party on a Saturday afternoon seems like a bad idea," Regulus said after a moment.

"That's what makes it a great idea, mate!" Xander said, slapping him on the back. "We'll meet you here after we ditch the chaperones. Don't be late!"

Xander and Pennyworth scurried off, perhaps to tell others about the plan.

Treacle bit Regulus on the finger and glared up at him with an angry meow.

Regulus jerked his finger away and sucked on it. "Ow!" He stared down at the angry kitten. "It's just a party, Treacle. Can't be any worse than the horrible socialite parties the Black Family hosts every year."

The kitten stared up at him with something akin to not-so-polite disagreement. Regulus stared off across the Common Room, unsure who he was trying to convince more—the kitten or himself.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Sounds like a bad idea, if you ask me," Argus said as he pet Mrs Norris. Treacle was batting at the other kitten, and the two went tumbling off after each other. Argus gave a snort. "Hogwarts has its share of secrets, but if I have learned anything, there are the good kinds and bad kinds of each, and the fact they don't want you telling anyone that could watch out for you doesn't seem very safe."

Regulus moaned and flopped on the strangely comfy sheepskin by the hearth. "It's the first party I've been invited to," he said softly. "Sis, Severus, and Remus have that brunch with Slughorn today and then they are having private lessons with their Master, and I'm all cooped up with my homework done and nothing to do but beat Avery and Mulciber at Wizard's Chess."

Argus gave Regulus a look.

Regulus slumped. "You know what I mean, right?"

Argus shook his head. "I know very well what's it's like to feel left out of things, young Regulus," the caretaker said with a sigh. "I also know that loneliness, real or imagined, can drive you do to unwise things."

Regulus hung his head. "They said they wouldn't ask again if I really didn't like it.

"You know, Regulus," Argus said. "If your gut is telling you something, you should probably listen. I'm not saying every gut instinct is going to be right, but if it's making you nervous, there's probably more to it than not wanting to get in trouble."

Regulus ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Argus, I'm going to go, but if I don't come back say… an hour before dark, will you make sure my sister knows? I'll just go and make an appearance and come back. I don't want to be known as the guy who never even gave them a chance."

Argus shook his head. "Okay, Regulus, but you may find getting caught out by your sister is far worse than anything the faculty of Hogwarts could do to you."

Regulus gave a half-hearted smile. "I know. She'll set me on fire. Take care of Treacle for me?"

Argus nodded sadly. "Be back before I have to, Regulus. I won't wait."

Regulus smiled. "That's why you're a good friend, Argus. "If you are taddling on me, it's for all the right reasons."

Argus smiled a little. "Sunset is at five oh six, Regulus. Be back here by four."

Regulus nodded. "I will."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

I'm a flipping idiot, Regulus groaned to himself as he blearily opened his eyes. The room was dark, or rather, far too dim for comfort. Passed out witches and wizards were strewn around the room. All of them were either so far gone in their cups that they were practically vomiting over themselves or they had been duped, like Regulus had into trying the punch.

He should have known better.

Hundreds of years of being a Black had taught him how to scan drinks for poison or drugs. There had been a time when no drink was ever taken unless the house-elf drank it first. Those times were past, but the paranoia lived on, and Regulus had thought those times were behind him. They had checked the wands at the door and given them little tags to claim them afterwards. There had been loud music and enough food to feed the entire city of Glascow five times over, or so it had seemed. There had been Muggles mixed with wizards and witches. All of them had been partying together.

Loud music came from all around, despite their being no band, and the seemed perfectly comfortable with the concept. Regulus figured it was just one more type of magic he hadn't learned yet, and it seemed like the other students didn't really care. There were drinks to be had and food to be eaten. House or class didn't seem to matter. Regulus had fifteen offers for "a good time" in the back, and he had very carefully found other places to be. Party or no, he was not going to defile his family name by hooking up with someone at a party where he didn't even know most of the people's names.

People gyrated to the music and against each other, and as time went on, far more against each other than to the music. When it tried to make his way to the door, the path was blocked by countless pairs of people making out with each other, and he saw the door and window to the place where the wands had been stored was barred. A crudely written "be back in fifteen minutes" was scrawled in ink on a piece of tattered parchment.

When the glitter had come raining down from above, that was when people started to drop. Regulus managed to wedge himself behind the sofa and the wall during the ruckus. The most terrifying part of it all was that no one around him seemed to panic. They just dropped to the ground with a thud, falling over each other as they fawned over each other.

Regulus felt the odd drug reacting the moment the glitter touched him, and he burrowed into the back and under the sofa, crawling in between the springs and frame, throwing all dignity in the wind. He silently thanked his mother and father for building up his immunity to various mind-altering chemicals since he was five, but whatever it was that was running through his system was strong and he knew he had to find a safe place to get it to wear off. He knew there was no chance of avoiding it.

When he woke, it took him a few minutes to remember where he was, and he instinctively controlled his breathing and emotions to not give away his hiding place. What time was it? Did Argus tell his sister? Why did he have to be such a bloody idiot?

"Children," a gravely voice chuckled. "Give them a little food and drink and they fall on each other like animals. Soon, they'll be our kind of animal… the ones that survive anyway."

Regulus heard footsteps in the room. from various places.

"All asleep in their drug induced stupor," another voice said.

"You deal with Stanford and Lilycut?" another voice asked.

"Oh, aye," a male voice answered in a Scottish brogue. "Imperiused 'em all nice and tight. They snapped all the wands so we wouldn't have any magical resistance. They spiked the punch just like you said. Put the catalyst in the glitter."

"Hrrrr," the gravely voice crooned. "I like it. I normally like to chase my prey, but this is a mission of numbers. We need more of us, and we will make more of us. Nice and young. Tender, sweet, meat."

Regulus heard a slurping sound and was immediately disgusted.

"This place smells of alcohol and cheap perfume," another voice scoffed. "I can't even smell one from another."

"No need," the gravely voice answered. "Just look at the piles of them lying there. Ripe to be bitten. Ripe for the gift. All we need now, is the moon. Once the morning comes, we take them back to the den and hold them until they change. We'll let them get their first taste of human flesh and they'll never go back. They'll never take that potion. They'll never be weak. We'll make sure each of the bitches are full of pup by their first transformation. They'll never want to leave us."

Regulus stifled his revulsion and fear. Suddenly, he knew exactly who was out in the room: Fenrir Greyback and his pack. He was trapped in a sealed room with a pack of werewolves.

"Voldemort promised us more people to bite," the gravelly voice said, "but his promises take too long. We will take our future into our own hands until our numbers outnumber the wizards and no one will be able to defy us because everyone of them will be one of us. With every change they will succumb to the moon and our numbers will spread. Humans will beg to be bitten in order to join their families rather than die to tooth and claw."

Regulus listened as he attempted to still his heart, just as he did so many times before as his sister held him in the closet with his mother screaming at Sirius from another room. Regulus imagined his sister's arms around him, calming his breaths and calming his heart and mind. He had never thought there would be time when he'd be thankful for countless years hiding in a closet from his mother's wrath, but he found himself very thankful. He only wished his father was here, knocking at the wardrobe door to tell him it was okay to come out. He wished Kreacher was there to Apparate him to safety.

"Aurors!" yelled a voice from the other side of the sealed wall. "Open this door, in the name of the Ministry of Magic!"

There were growls coming from everywhere.

"It'll be too late for them," the male voice said. "The moon comes. Bite them all. Kill the the resistance!"

Screams of agony filled the room. There was wet, fleshing, tearing sounds. Bones popped, skin stretched, and agonising screams turned into growls, howls, and snarls.

"_Bombarda Maxima!_"

"_Alohomora!_"

An explosion of debris blew out the far wall, and yelps of lupine pain filled the air as their bodies went spinning off across the room.

"Send in the Animagi and centaur!"

"Lethal force is authorised if looks like you are going to get bitten. Take them alive if you can. Stand back and take the ones trying to escape. Let the Animagi team do their job!" someone snapped orders over the masses.

Equine roars resounded with animal snarls. The sounds of hooves connecting with bone and the breaking of said bone split the air.

"To me!" Regulus heard a voice yell. "Guard my flank."

"How do I tell which ones are ours?" a nervous voice yelled the question.

"The ones with bright orange collars are ours, idiot!" the man who had barked orders yelled back.

WHAM!

Regulus felt multiple bodies slam into his hiding place, and suddenly he was exposed. He looked out into the room into what could only be described as a warzone.

A huge grizzly bear had a werewolf in a hug. The werewolf yelped as his spine was broken, and the grizzly threw the werewolf's paralysed body across the room into another werewolf who was trying to bite one of the passed out bodies.

A werewolf was making a beeline towards the Auror line, fangs bared and body surging forward as foam flecked from its mouth.

WHACK!

An arrow sheathed itself into the werewolf's body with such force that it was pinned to the far wall. The werewolf, while alive, couldn't move from where it was pinned. The Aurors threw spells at it at once, binding it and tranquilising the rampaging werewolf with ten or more stuns to the face.

The bear Animagus was continuing its rampage across the room, throwing injured werewolves across the room and away from the fallen children. A panther Animagus raked claws across a werewolf's face, slashing across one werewolf's eyes, and when the werewolf attempted to bite the panther, the huge cat's rear legs pistoned upward and then disemboweled the werewolf's belly with surgical precision. The panther's jaws clamped on the werewolf's neck until its body went still.

An unearthly whooping laugh came from a huge hyena in the corner as it clamped on the rear leg of a werewolf who was making a leap towards Regulus, and Regulus heard the bones in the werewolf's legs shattered under the brute strength of the hyena's jaws.

One werewolf, who had two children's bitten arms in its mouth, snarled, letting the arms drop. It leapt towards a nearby human pile a centaur was guarding as two things happened. A black equine hoof connected to the werewolf's face, and three wolves descended upon the werewolf with vicious snarls.

Two huge black wolves snarled, baring teeth at the werewolf as the huge timberwolf between them launched into the largest of the werewolves. Their eyes glowed golden like radiant suns. The two black wolves prevented the werewolf from dodging around the other wolf, and the large timberwolf attacked without mercy. His lips pulled back from his shining white teeth as he descended upon the werewolf.

Each time the werewolf made to bite one of the nearby children, a black wolf would descend upon him, biting and clawing, but when the werewolf made to fight the the large timber wolf, the black wolves stayed still.

Suddenly the werewolf saw Regulus for the first time, and Regulus saw the change in the werewolf's eyes. He saw the almost evil curl of his lips from his teeth as more drool dripped from his mouth mixed with blood and foam. He leapt towards Regulus, not seeming to care about other attacks over the goal of infecting Regulus.

The two black wolves were suddenly there, their rumps pressed against Regulus as they moved him backwards towards the Auror wall. Regulus staggered as he was herded towards the Aurors, and a gruff pair of arms pulled him clear. "Move it, boy!" the Auror snapped. "Unless you fancy yourself in fur three nights of the month!"

Regulus allowed himself to be put behind the Auror wall. One by one, the bear and the panther were dragging children back to the Aurors as the fight between the main werewolf and the three werewolves went on. The hyena Animagus, however, was busy crippling every werewolf that was still standing with merciless efficiency after the three centaur smashed their hooves into each attacking werewolf and sent them careening towards the hyena Animagus. Aurors bound each of the werewolves as they went down.

Only the main werewolf was actively trying to find more humans to bite, and he kept lunging towards the diminishing victim pool with frustration. Finally, having had enough with the wolve's interference, the werewolf went from the brown timberwolf's throat.

Golden eyes flashed brighter, and the larger and healthier wolf clamped his jaws around the werewolf's throat and threw his body weight down on the werewolf. The werewolf's spine made a cracking sound against the floor, and it gave out an involuntary yipe. Urine puddled from his body, and the werewolf loosed his bowels over the floor.

The werewolf's body twitched, his jaws snapping involuntarily, but his eyes were now unfocused.

The earthen wolf released his grip, tail erect and still. His muzzle pointed upward in a howl, and the two wolves beside him answered in suit.

"Come away now," a voice Regulus recognised immediately.

Professor McGonagall pushed her way through the Auror line. "To me," she ordered. "Let the Aurors handle the rest."

To Regulus' surprise, the three wolves immediately came to her call, muzzles pressed against the elder witch's hands and sides. Their tails wagged wildly, and their tongues lapped at her hands in supplication. The three centaur filed out with them, and the wolves took turns rubbing up against each of the centaur and tail wagging.

"I will take them back to my chambers in Hogwarts, Alastor," she said sternly. "You may meet us there for debriefing."

"Yes, ma'am," the stern looking Auror answered. "I will come as soon as we clean up this… mess."

"And you, Mr Black" Minerva said sternly. "You will wait here with the healers to be checked out, then you will return to Hogwarts with Professor Slughorn and Professor Flitwick, who will both be escorting you."

Regulus gulped. As he stared into the elder Animagus' eyes, he realised that maybe there was someone worse than being caught by his sister past curfew, and he was staring right at her.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Auror Raid in Hogsmeade Leads to Capture of Notorious Werewolves Fenrir Greyback and a Score of His Infected Followers**_

_by Rita Skeeter_

_Not so long ago, I reported on the hero werewolf, Mr Jamison Stemwinder, who defended his daughter from were-poodle Dolores Umbridge, but today I am reporting about the very antithesis of hero. Today, I write about Fenrir Greyback, the notorious werewolf who has maimed, killed, and infected children across Europe in his effort to outnumber the Wizarding and Muggle World._

"_Bite 'em young," Fenrir had said on numerous occasions. "Turn the enemy into allies."_

_Fenrir Greyback was caught in Hogsmeade with over a dozen of his fellow werewolves, all off the Wolfsbane potion, locked up in a room of drugged students, both Muggle and non, in an attempt to bite them all after his transformation. His plan may have succeeded had one student from Hogwarts not left word that if he did not return by certain time that something was wrong._

_The student, whose name has been withheld to prevent further trauma over the events, inadvertently saved more than a hundred young people from being infected with lycanthropy. When the dust settled at the medium sized warehouse in Hogsmeade, there were at least a score of captured werewolves._

_Unfortunately, three Muggles were bitten by Fenrir himself before he could be subdued by a team of Animagi and Aurors. The three, unfortunately, succumbed to the bleeding before making it to St Mungos for treatment. They had never woken up from their drug-induced stupor. Two young wizards by the name of Stanford and Lilycut were also bitten in the werewolf attacks, but they and the three Muggle victims were the only bite victims of the night._

_Over a hundred young people were counted amongst the almost victims, and all of them had been drugged via a combination of laced punch and and some sort of airborne powder released on the dance floor. _

_Aurors tip their hats to not only the Animagi that rushed in to help with the containment of the werewolves without risking infection of the human rescue members but the invaluable assistance of the local Centaur. _

_Alastor Moody, Senior Auror during the operation, stated, "It could have been worse. Much worse. Constant vigilance! If not for the help of the centaur and the Animagi, we could have had many more victims of lycanthropy on top of infected Aurors. It would have been a massacre!"_

_The Animagi Rescue Team, headed by Auror Klaus Shattenjäger, is a group of specially trained Animagi that serve in both Wizarding and Muggle areas for search and rescue, combat, and everything in between, but one thing sets them above the rest. When there is talk of werewolves, these Animagi rush in where others fear to tread. They wade into the fray to protect their fellows from being infected with lycanthropy, and I, for one, thank them for their honourable service!_

_And if Apprentices Black, Snape, and Lupin haven't had enough laurels hoisted over their head, the infamous trio made their debut as one of the youngest Animagus Rescue Team members. Shattenjäger proudly stated that the trio has been training under himself for months, and they did exactly what they were trained to do: protect and save lives. Their Masters Barberry and McGonagall are said to be quite proud, and who can blame them?_

_When interviewing Masters Barberry and McGonagall over the load of material they are teaching their Apprentices, both Masters shook their heads. "It is our job to teach, and the Apprentice's job to learn. We, as teachers, must recognise not only when our Apprentice's mind is full, but also when it hungers for more. In the case of these three, they are a sponge waiting for more. I assure you, we will keep teaching as long as that hunger is there."_

_Fenrir Greyback, however, is not going to be rampaging the nights in his moon-induced hunger anymore. The werewolf, while battling with the Animagi Rescue Team, had his back broken during the fight. Fenrir, now fully paralysed, has permanent nerve damage that has taken from him all but the ability to talk. Fenrir suffered through his trial in front of the Wizengamot from a hospital bed, and he was sentenced to nine hundred years in Azkaban. _

_Troubling the Wizengamot the most was that Fenrir fully disclosed that "Dark Lord Voldemort promised me fresh meat and victims! When the moon comes, I will be healed, and I will destroy you all!"_

_Perhaps, even more troubling, was the capture of twelve young girls and seven young boys that Fenrir had "bitten young" in a small cave in the Muggle Wildlife Trust called Linhouse Glen. The area, which is a river floodplain with narrow wooded slopes known for the abundance of common spotted orchids, was discovered not by Aurors, but by tourists who were birdwatching and were suddenly beset on by a group of half-naked children who attempted to run on all fours "like a dog."_

_The children were taken up by Aurors and whisked away to St Mungos where they await both treatment and what promises to be a long stretch of therapy. I'm sure that many of you will join me in wishing the victims of Fenrir's reign of terror a swift recovery. We can only hope that now that the main driving force against the use of the Wolfsbane potion is out of commission, those fearing for his wrath will now feel safe enough to get the help they were too fearful to obtain before._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As Alastor Moody and Klaus Schattenjäger sat in Master Barberry's garden, sitting on the porch overlooking the main garden. Two black wolves and the earthen-coloured odd-wolf out romped around the hedges with lupine enthusiasm, chasing each other with their tails wagging like flags.

"You taught them combat, Klaus?" Moody scoffed. "Why would you do that?"

The German wizard looked at Moody with a strange look. "Where I come from, being prepared is not just book knowledge, Alastor. You of all people should know that."

Moody shook his head. "But, they are children, Klaus."

"They are people, Alastor," Klaus admonished. "They are very prepared and ahead of their class. If they took your silly Auror tests, they would probably pass them all, save, perhaps, the height requirement."

Moody made a frustrated face.

"Animagi teach their own the best ways to survive. Masters McGonagall and Barberry are both Animagi and their Masters. Two very strong motivators to make sure their charges are ready for whatever comes. They asked if I would help them learn physical combat, and I was honoured to serve," Klaus said. "They are exemplar students."

"When you said you were bringing your Animagi friends to help with the raid, I had no idea you meant young students as well," Moody groused.

"Apprentices, Alastor," Klaus corrected.

"Same thing," Moody barked.

"Nien, Alastor," Klaus said with a shake of his head. "Very different."

Moody frowned.

Klaus leaned forward. "Apprentice and Master bonds are strong. They can be as strong as family, and sometimes stronger than family. Theirs," he said as he gestured out to the garden, "is very strong. There is nothing those three would not do for their Masters. Is very different from… typical student and teacher relationship."

"I didn't need a Master to teach me how to be an Auror," Moody rationalised.

"But you had a mentor," Klaus said.

"What of it?" Moody said crankily.

"A mentor is only another kind of Master," Klaus chuckled. "Not as formal, but just as significant."

Moody slammed his palm into his forehead and then waved his hand. "Fine, fine, just tell me how you got this tip where this attack was going on."

"Regulus Black left a message for his sister to be delivered if he didn't return by 4pm this afternoon to pick up his familiar from the Caretaker," Minerva explained. "When the time was up, Argus Filch informed me of the message for Hermione Black. He had gone to a party with some House-mates, sneaking out with some of the older students to Hogsmeade. Mr Black, while lapsing in judgment in this case, is not one to go back on his word. Hermione knew if he had promised to be back before four that something drastic would have prevented him from returning, party or no party. I agreed, we informed Master Barberry, and then we came to Klaus. Klaus contacted the active Animagi who have worked with handling werewolves, of which our Apprentices are amongst that number, and we garnered the help from the centaur who are used to dealing with errant werewolves in their territory. By then, you had been contacted, a human Auror team was set up, and we all met at the house. The rest you know."

"Three Muggle children were at that party and were bitten by Greyback or his pack," Moody said. "Two young wizards, Stanford and Lilycut were the ones who did the inviting of both Wizarding children and the Muggles. They were Imperiused so bad that I don't think they'll even remember an original thought the rest of their lives. To top it off, those two were also bitten. The three Muggle victims had wounds that bled out for too long before we could get them help. They are unlikely to make it through the night. If they survive, and that's a big if, I am unsure how we are going to deal with that. Dealing with lycanthropy is hard enough in the Wizarding world where people know werewolves are real."

"What of Greyback and his pack?" Barberry asked.

Moody furrowed his brows. "Some would say good riddance, but most of his pack did not survive the battle. They fought to the end with no concern to their welfare. By the time we did injure them enough to subdue them, when they came to, they strangled themselves in the bindings trying to bite the Auror team. There was no reason in them. All they cared about out was sinking their teeth into someone."

Shattenjäger looked thoughtful. "That is long term sickness there, ja," he said after a while. "No sense of self preservation over the desire to spread the curse. The boy, Regulus Black, he said that Greyback was going to drag the victims back to some sort of lair. Wait out their transformation and teach them to go after humans."

"Have you found it?" Barberry asked.

"Aye," Shattenjäger said with a nod. He looked suddenly very uncomfortable. "Well they found a group of birdwatchers in the early morning hiking hours. We found seven young boys and twelve young girls none of them older than twelve. All are werewolves." Shattenjäger clenched his fist. "All of the girls were pregnant either by Fenrir or his pack males. None of them remember a life before him."

Minerva paled and Barberry looked like he was going to hurl.

Moody was angry. "They all crawled around on the ground on all fours. They clung to our legs asking if it was all right to relieve themselves. One of the girls asked if I would give her a pup so she could join the others as a true pack bitch. It was despicable!"

"What is to become of them, Klaus?" Minerva asked, looking green.

"They are at Mungos for now, but I have a contact who runs a safe haven for werewolves where they can get the Wolfsbane potion and support from other werewolves… healthy ones. Stable ones. They have healers there. The grounds are enclosed and the local centaur patrol the forests. I will ask if they have room for them, or rather, the resources to help that many traumatised children. I can only pray that we can get them mind healers before it's too late, if it isn't already. We can only thank Merlin that the Wolfsbane potion is available now. A year ago today, the only place we could put them would be Azkaban. As it is, as long they don't assault someone, they can get help. The moment they try to sink their teeth into someone, Auror or otherwise, nothing will save them."

"I hear the Minister wishes to make the Animagi Rescue Team a permanent team, complete with benefits and a named bed at Mungo's like the Hit Wizards," Barberry mused.

"Oh, it's already done. I gave those three their official pins to add to the other pins they already have. Now, if they ever get injured in the field, they just use the pin as a portkey directly to their named bed at Mungos. Oh, btw, these are for you." He plunked to shiny and round metal pins into Barberry and Minerva's hands.

Their eyebrows shot into their hair simultaneously.

"Welcome to the Animagi Rescue team," Shattenjäger said smugly. "I promise to only call on you when the need is dire."

Barberry and Minerva facepalmed as their hands clipped one more pin to their combined collars.

Klaus grinned at Moody.

"No," Moody said. "I am not embracing my inner animal to join your crack team of Animagi."

"Suit yourself, Alastor."

"Bad enough they try and make me wear a uniform. I'm not showing up to work dressed as a hamster."

"Hamster? Hardly," Barberry quipped. "Tazmanian devil more like."

Moody rolled his eyes. "I hate you."

Klaus clapped Moody on the back. "Come, you should meet the children officially. I think they are done digging up Teaberry's rosebushes."

"Children should be allowed to be children," Moody said firmly.

"Who says we aren't?" Minerva said with a smug smile. "Give them a chance, Alastor. I think you'll agree that they haven't stopped having fun just because they have accomplished so much."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Alastor Moody's face was torn between something profound and a sort painful realisation as he slowly soothed the ears on what was probably the largest timberwolf he had ever seen. If he didn't know better, he would have said dire wolf.

Tuft panted almost happily, a long trail of drool dripping down from his mouth as he slobbered a lick on Moody's face as he snuffled Moody's hair. Deep golden eyes flashed a brilliant, radiant gold that was as grand as the sun, and suddenly it was echoed between the other two wolves beside him. Each of the tail wagged at Moody, snuffled his face, and gave him a soft lick across the face.

"Ach!" Moody complained, pushing them off his face and ending up sitting on his rump on the ground.

Tuft, Hermione, and Severus clambered over him, snuffling him over with curious tail wags as they got to know his scent and other identifying characteristics.

"Only on the full moons, you say?" Moody repeated.

"Usually," Barberry chuckled.

"The wolf, which we call Tuft," Minerva explained, "seems to come out when the eyes go that brilliant gold. When he does, he communicates to his packmates, namely Hermione and Severus, and they end up like this. Otherwise, they remain their normal Animagus forms."

"Which are?" Moody grunted the question.

"A Bateleur eagle and a phoenix," Barberry chuckled.

"And Tuft," Moody said, "is the werewolf?"

Barberry looked thoughtful. "I am starting to think Tuft is what all werewolves would strive to be provided they aren't bat-shit crazy like Fenrir or his pack: a balance of wolf and man. Tuft recognises Remus' friends and allies and vice versa. They have a connection together that the an uncalm werewolf does not. It was why Tuft, while in the company of Hermione and Severus, can easily go on rescue missions a normal wolf would not. Tuft is capable of very high, almost human reason."

"All this without the potion?" Moody asked.

"Aye," Minerva said.

"How long has this been possible?"

"Since their first year," Minerva said. "Might be as early as the very first month at Hogwarts, when they met, but I have a feeling it really cemented the night those two wizards Apparated themselves into pieces into a wall in Knockturn Alley. That was the morning I found them together. Hermione and Severus had been knocked out cold by their attackers, and Tuft was there licking their wounds, perfectly calm."

"I see now why you've kept this on the down low, even though you've had them register. Better people think they are Animagi than werewolves, or werewolves on Wolfsbane than something highly evolved. I can only imagine what the Dark Lord would do if he thought he could bend them to his will."

Alastor frowned. "After watching your memories of that Pettigrew kid, I think I should revise my constant vigilance with don't trust old goats." He gave the two of them a weary smile as he rubbed his nose. He rubbed his temples and tapped his head, pulling out strands of memories and putting them into a vial. He handed it to Barberry. "I have a meeting with Albus this evening. Ever since I got that knock to my head going after that Dark Wizard in Spain, I've never been sure how readable my mind is. I need you to make sure I don't remember any of it. I'll put my memory of me saying this in the jar in case I come back demanding answers."

Barberry nodded grimly as he took the memory vial.

"I'm going to need you to teach me some of that Occlumency mumbo-jumbo, but wait until you have a definite plan, otherwise I'll just be cranky," Moody sighed.

Klaus clapped him on the shoulder. "Not to worry. I will keep you chasing your tail so much you won't remember to be cranky."

"I will always have time to be cranky," Moody mumbled. "It's my calling."

Moody put the rest of his memories in another jar and passed it to Barberry. "Just don't let me wake up in the fountain again."

Barberry grinned at him. "As you wish."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Barberry gently rubbed Minerva's shoulders as she sat enjoying her morning coffee. "Good morning, love," he said gently, pressing his lips to her temple.

Minerva gave him a shy smile. "Good morning."

"How are the children this morning?"

"I think they transplanted all of Teaberry's rosebushes from one side of the garden to the other."

"Incorrigible whelps," Barberry laughed.

"I'm not even sure if Tuft was the true instigator. It looks that way, but with those three…" Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"Blame them all equally," Barberry said with a smile. "They are a hivemind."

"They would claim differently," Minerva said.

"They would be lying."

Minerva grinned at him.

Barberry stared out into the garden with a sigh, his brows furrowing.

"What is it?"

"Something had been troubling Hermione, but she hasn't come to me yet," Barberry said. "Soon perhaps, but I worry that she wait until it is too impossible to ignore."

"Have we given her any reason not to trust us?"

Barberry shook his head. "No, Minerva. I think it more she is worried that whatever she says will make us not trust her."

Minerva huffed. "That hardly seems possible."

"She is a Black, Minerva," Barberry said knowingly. "The world is set upon her shoulders from birth, long before she knows how to walk. We can only be there for when she is ready to brave our wrath, regardless of whether we have any wrath to give."

The cat Animagus smiled a little and nodded. "Aye."

Barberry's hand closed over Minerva's with a gentle warmth, but she did not pull away.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Masters?" Hermione called softly, bowing her head in respect as she entered the room. "May I speak with you?"

"Of course, child, come in," Barberry invited her with a gesture.

Hermione looked nervous. Severus and Remus touched her shoulders, and Hermione squared them with a deep breath. "I feel like there is much I must tell you. I feel like it's important, yet, I also feel like it was only a dream life.

"What inspired this, Hermione? Barberry asked. "I have sensed something troubling you for some time now."

Hermione flinched, her grey eyes flickering with her turmoil. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Sit, Hermione, please," Barberry said, gesturing to the empty seats.

Hermione sat on the small couch, and Severus and Remus took up the sides beside her. She looked skyward as though to count the ceiling cracks. "Two years ago, the year I was to start Hogwarts, I woke up at Grimmauld Place, the Ancestral Home of the Black Family, but when I did I felt like I had lived an entire other life—a different life, a different person that had a similar name, yet wasn't. I had different parents, but the ones I have here now, they weren't the same."

Hermione clutched Severus' sleeve, and Remus held her other hand, rubbing it gently in comfort. In it people were so similar, yet different. They were recognisable, but changed… older. There was a war after a war. Dumbledore was there, but he tried to help me and my friends find these items that were essential for the war's end. There were seven… Horcruxes. Receptacles for the fragments of soul of man who was no long just a man. His name was Tom Riddle, the many Fenrir Greyback called… Voldemort."

Minerva gave a soft gasp, and Barberry blinked. He leaned in closer as Hermione stared at the floor.

"At first, I didn't know what to think," Hermione confessed. "I thought myself mad, like so many of my family are prone to be. When we come into our magic, all of us gain something, and that something is not always good. I hid it because it was so impossible. The friends I've made defy so much of that world I thought had been mine. In that world I was sorted into Gryffindor, and here I am in Slytherin.."

Hermione rubbed her fingers across her nose. "There was a diary, written by young Tom Riddle, a ring that had the symbol of the Deathly Hallows etched on the stone, a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin, A cup once treasured by Helga Hufflepuff, a diadem once worn by Rowena Ravenclaw," Hermione listed, "but then there were two others, one was a giant snake named Nagini, Tom's most cherished pet, and one was the survivor of his killing curse, my other life's best friend. Nagini wasn't made into a Horcrux until after my friend was born. He was attacked one night one year and three months after he was born. It was the night that Tom Riddle murdered his family to prevent a prophecy from being fulfilled, but the killing curse reflected back on him and he killed himself. A fragment of his shattered soul latched on to the child and created the Horcrux he never intended to make."

Hermione wrung her hands and looked into her Master's faces. "I, in that life I don't even know was ever real, many died to bring an end to the Second Wizarding War."

"This First War, Hermione, how did it begin?" Barberry asked.

"I cannot say for sure. It started, I think, as a war against Muggles. The loss of a way of life to some. It started with a charismatic man whose ideals and words lured those to his side. What really pushed the end, however, was the Prophecy delivered to the Dark Lord by his his most new servant as proof of his worth. it set the Dark Lord in motion to kill the one who would kill him, unknowing that he would bring death upon himself."

Hermione stared into space. "Even if what I saw was true, the events have already changed. My being here changed everything. Sirius and Regulus Black never had a sister. I was never there to befriend Remus in the Shack his first year at Hogwarts, and Severus Snape never knew me as a friend… because I never existed until the nineteenth of September, 1979. I'm just a fake, an imposter… I was wished here by an angry wish of my supposed best friend who wished I'd never been born."

Tears were flowing down Hermione's eyes. She had done it. She had finally said the truth, and now she expected all the happiness she had built on the lie of her image of self to fall to pieces.

Suddenly Barberry's hands were on Hermione's, and a warmth like nothing she had ever felt before flowed through her. It was non judgmental warmth, completely without strings. "Dear Hermione, child of fire and the stars. You are Ankaa the Phoenix, Firebird of the Heavens. Do you not know the story of your own making? You are the bird that rises from the ashes of her own death. You create yourself anew from the ash of your old life."

Barberry stroked her tear stained cheek. "Your father would tell you this, I am certain. If your previous life cast you out, then we have gained you anew, and they have lost something greater than they will ever know. When you born, and your mother cradled you in her arms for the first time, you became the phoenix chick wreathed in fire. Stories of your birth still circulate amongst those of us who pay attention to such things. You were meant to be with us, here and now, then and before, but unlike that life that gave you up, we shall not easily let you go, Hermione."

Hermione's tears trickled over Barberry's hands, and he smiled as the small cuts on his fingers from cutting potion ingredients healed instantly, leaving his fingers flawless and uncalloused. "You see?" he said as he fanned his now perfect fingers. "You are our gift. Our here and now."

"Tell us the story of your old life, Hermione," Barberry said gently. "And we shall create you anew and call you our own. We shall not let you go. I promise you."

Hermione sobbed in Gilford Barberry's arms as Minerva pulled herself into the hug. Hermione pulled Severus and Remus in by the hands and didn't let go.

Magic flared as the promise sealed between them, and, had they been looking, they would have seen Remus' eyes bled into a brilliant shining gold, echoed by Hermione's, Severus', Minerva's, and Gilford's.

A burst of magic made a nova outward, and Fawkes and Sagacity materialised together in the dimness of the room, landing together on top of the huddle, their wings outstretched like the span of dual Thunderbirds, fanning over them all in a protective arch. Fawkes screamed, and Sagacity let out a low rumbling hoot as a pulse of pure energy blew outward, knocking over books and blowing around papers like a squall. The room became impossibly dark, save for the glow of seven pairs of golden, radiant eyes.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Whoa… what do you think happened there, hrm? Anyone figure it out? Muahahahaaa… Care to tell me your thoughts, hrm?

I'm thinking of skipping a few years after this year is done (it's not done yet! don't panic) and Fast Forwarding over to Year 5 or 6. With Fenrir and Umbridge dealt with, there would be a certain blissful peace for our Trio (and well deserved at that.) I'll be honest in saying that I don't think I have enough creativity to fill years 3 and 4 since so much has already happened, and with my busy, busy schedule it will be hard enough finding time to write let alone inspiration to write.

Year Five would also allow me to start sneaking in some hints of romance, and year 6 would definitely have that. We could also presume that year Three/Four and possible 5 would be chalk full of practical knowledge and learning from their masters that would make them more than capable of dealing with the looking quest for Horcruxes. It would also give Sirius, James, and Regulus time to perfect Animagus forms, if they so choose to pursue them. (insert mental image of James getting stuck by his antlers in the bathroom shower stall)

I now return to all the homework I was totally avoiding all day like a VERY BAD PERSON!

*headdesk*

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	32. My Sister is the One Who's Scary

Beta Love: fluffpanda

**Chapter 32: My Sister is the One Who's Scary**

"Brother, wake up!"

"Mmmph."

"Come on, Regulus!"

"Mrmph."

Regulus opened one eye and groaned as the light from the window blinded him. He squinted. "Sirius?"

Sirius was sitting on the edge of the nearby bed. "For once in my life, I had to fend the Howler off your bedside, brother," Sirius said with a huff. "I can save you the lecture that mother most likely wrote. How dare you by caught in a place with loose morals and tarnished honour? I cannot believe that you, Regulus, would do something so like your brother, Sirius!"

"Ugh, brother, shut it," Regulus moaned, rubbing his head. "How did I get here?"

"You don't remember the swarm of healers checking you proof that you were going to sport fangs and gain fleas three times a month?" Sirius asked.

Regulus hung his head. "I'm trying really hard not to, brother."

"Good thing our sister is one of the creators of the Wolfsbane potion, hrm?" Sirius ribbed.

Regulus groaned. "At least she doesn't know. Tell me she doesn't know."

Sirius furrowed his brows. "Erm, she was in the rescue team that got you out of there, little brother. There will be no saving you from the wrath that is our sister."

Regulus moaned. "She will be so much worse than mother. So much worse. She knows exactly where to punch me to bruise my kidneys and make it hurt to pee for a month."

Sirius snorted. "She's always been soft on you. How would you know that?"

"Because I heard you moaning after she socked you under the ribs for filling her fishbowl with gelatin," Regulus said. "I was also there when you had to bathe in flea dip and tomato juice when you stuck your nose into her diary and got yourself transfigured into a dog and _had_ to chase that skunk."

Sirius frowned. "You were four. How did you remember that?"

"Everyone in our family remembers that, Sirius," Regulus said. "Father took pictures."

Sirius facepalmed. "Why can't we get embarrassing pictures of our sister?"

Regulus looked up at his brother. "You remember the last idiot that pointed a camera at her without her permission?"

Sirius tilted his head. "Come on, Regulus. She was seven."

Regulus looked at him flatly. "She hugged them and set herself on fire."

Sirius sighed. "She wouldn't set family on fire, would she?"

Regulus grunted. "She's way past fire. I'm so dead."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione opened one eye.

Severus was snuggled up next to her, his wing wrapped around her phoenix body, and they were both huddled next to Remus' warm belly fur. Master Barberry was perched on top of Minerva's front paws, and the cat Animagus had her head curved around the English Robin's plump bird body like a favourite catnip mouse. Fawkes and Sagacity were perched on Remus' back, eyes closed as the two birds enjoyed a bit of sleep.

Albus Dumbledore was going wonder where his familiar had run off to… again.

Hermione felt a little damp, and she realised that Remus, or Tuft, or some combination in between had seen to her personal hygiene personally, making sure she was thoroughly soaked down to her skin. Remus and Tuft were equal opportunity droolers. It seemed to make Mrs Norris come out shiny and fluffy, but she wondered if feathers were ever meant to be so abused. She supposed she could set herself on fire, as per the usual phoenix method of drying itself off, but then Severus might not appreciate having her spontaneously combust out from under him. Part of her wondered if Lily knew about the properties of Remus/Tuft drool, if the witch would chase the poor wolf Animagus around with a bucket.

Somehow, she knew Lily would have be very creative about the ingredient list. Wolf drool sounded like a horrible ingredient. Lupine slaver? Fugacious froth? Special spittle? She would be better off to just say "all natural ingredients."

"Hey, Hermione, what makes your hair so shiny and awesome?"

"Wolf spit."

"Whaaaa?"

Move along. Nothing to see here.

Hermione shook her head, and the movement woke up Severus, who used his curved beak to preen her head crest dutifully. She realised that the feel of his tender preening made everything better— even the drool.

After crying her eyes almost dry, and after her Master had collected about two vial's worth of Hermione-brand phoenix tears to experiment with, Hermione had finally settled for believing that her friends and her Masters weren't going to expose her as a fraud and kick her out. She had copied her memories of her old life for her Master's to filter through at their leisure, but Gilford Barberry was adamant that whatever memories she had of a previous life, possible or otherwise, were a gift of what could have been had Hermione not blessed them with her life.

Hermione wasn't sure how she managed to rate so highly in her Masters' eyes, both Barberry and McGonagall's, but it touched her greatly. Hermione Granger had no memory of Master Gilford Barberry. Hermione Black, however, couldn't imagine her life without the quirky English Robin Animagus. While Hermione Granger had adored Minerva McGonagall back in her future past, the relationship she had with her as Hermione Black was far more intimate and trusting. She trusted both of her Masters with her life.

Her greatest fear was still letting down the people she cared about.

Warmth came from Severus, and she preened his neck with her beak, feeling a cathartic peace come over her. He was still there. He, Remus, and her Masters were a presence inside her mind like the touch of a warm hand. The amount of relief she felt was beyond measure. The amount of love she had for for her little group of adopted family was immeasurable, and it was as genuine as the love she had for her blood family. In a way, perhaps, it was stronger because she knew exactly what could have been when it came to Severus, Remus, and Minerva. The absence of Master Barberry in her future past told her much of what could have been. The anguish the older Sirius Black had in regards to the love lost between he and his brother said much. The screaming bigoted portrait of Walburga said the rest.

One thing had moved a mountain: her birth into the House of Black.

No rift had been allowed to fester between Sirius and his brother or his sister. Sirius had never been allowed to descend into hateful spite of his brother due to their separate Houses. Umbridge would never see the outside world again, she and Fudge's mechanizations had already been foiled. The current Minister of Magic had a level head and had never been forced to resign due to made-up failures cooked up by Fudge's future cabinet. Severus' mother had escaped the heavy hand of Tobias Snape. Severus himself…

Hermione preened the back of Severus' feathered neck. In Severus, she had gained a friend unlike any she had ever had in her original childhood. He was as tenaciously loyal a friend as one could ask for. He was smart and had dry sense of sublime humour that if she had even had a hint of it in his older self, her opinions of the dour older professor would have been vastly different. He stood up for himself, leading with the silent presence of will that his older self had honed into a scathing edge, but instead of using it in disgust and loathing, he had taken the position of a role-model. He was a Potions Apprentice to one of the most renowned Masters of the Potion Mastery Board. He commanded respect, but he deserved every bit of it. It was something his older self had always fought for and rarely received. Professor Severus Snape had been known as the Dungeon Bat and Greasy Git of the Dungeon. He had been the betrayer, the spy, and the man who died feeling guilty over a split between he and his childhood friend.

"_Promise me you'll always be my friend?"_

"_Always."_

"_I'm not sure what I would have done with a true friend in my schooling days, Professor Granger. Perhaps, nothing would have changed. Perhaps… everything would have."_

Hermione closed her eyes. Everything had changed. As she lay her head across Severus' back, she could hear his heart beating—strong, even, and steady. What she would have given for a friend like him back in the day… and fate had given her one in this new life.

There was a good chance that the price of this friendship gained would be the loss of two friendships she could never have again—Harry, provided Lily and James still ended up together, may never be born. Ron, however, would be born, but she would be much older than he, and then there was that little factoid that she knew he would eventually grow up to be the kind of person that would curse her into non-existence.

Remus and Severus were looking pretty darn solid as friends. Sirius and Regulus were the brothers she'd always wanted. Orion was the kind of father she imagined Mr Granger to be had he been magical. Even Walburga, despite her flaws, loved her family. She baked cookies for her children. Sirius Black of Harry Potter's time never had a kind word to say about his family. Had whatever even that caused Sirius to spurn his family not happened yet, or would it never happen because events had already been changed?

Would Regulus die in a cave attempting to set right his lapse in judgment in joining the Death Eaters?

Hermione winced and opened her eyes. Severus was looking at her with his dark eyes. She fenced her beak with his and looked toward the open window, bobbing her head.

Severus fluttered his wings. They hadn't gone for a good fly in a while.

Hermione bobbed her head again. He mirrored her.

She flipped out one wing. He did the same.

She opened her beak and made a silent call. He opened his beak and called back.

Suddenly they were off, darting out the window with a flurry of wingbeats as they squeezed their bulk through the thankfully open window—off into the great blue sky where the heavens beckoned.

Hermione let out a piercing phoenix warble of joy, and Severus answered her with an eagle scream of his own. They tore off into the clouds—a flaming splotch of feathers flying wingtip to wingtip with the dark black and red Bateleur eagle.

Fawkes woke with a chirp and pegged Sagacity on the rump, causing the great owl to hoot in surprise. Fawkes warbled, tugging on Sagacity's wing and hopping towards the window. Sagacity yawned into Fawkes' face with a hoot. Fawkes was already out the window and in flight before Sagacity seemed to realise he was being left behind. He hooted in distress and took off after Fawkes, leaving the sleeping Remus to drool on Minerva and Barberry.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Klaus Shattenjäger overlooked the field and obstacle course with a bit of pride. It had taken a few days to set it up to test the limits of his Animagi teams, and each section had different strengths and weaknesses. There were parts set up as flying obstacles, some for ground, some for team combination. There were sections made for message delivery, some for survival, and some for search and rescue. There were seconds where scent was everything, and there were other drenched in perfume to prevent tracking with the nose.

When the regular Aurors had come in to watch the activity, many of them thought the course was insane. Their obstacle courses, for example, had not been both submerged in water and set on fire at the same time. Klaus, however, knew how important it was. The Ministry was here to watch the trials. They wanted to know why the Minister had sanctioned the formation of the Animagi Rescue Team. They wanted to know why these particular Animagi should have their information protected more securely than the normal Animagi Registry. Why, many asked, should they be paid more than typical Aurors? Why would they be treated like Hit Wizards and Witches? What made them so special?

Klaus turned as he heard people approaching behind him. "Ah, Mr Lupin, thank you for coming."

"Have you built yourself a circus, Shattenjäger?" the elder wizard asked.

"Better," Klaus answered, gesturing him to sit.

The wizard and his wife sat in the nearby chairs.

"Is there a reason for this dog and pony show?" Lyall muttered.

"Please, Lyall," his wife said. "I'm interested in seeing what Mr Shattenjäger has to show us today."

Lyall muttered and said nothing more.

As people finished filling in, Klaus stood up and motioned for quiet. "Thank you for coming today, my friends," Klaus said, his voice controlled and level. "Today, we wish to show you some of the inner workings of our Animagi rescue teams and how they are working hard to assist the Aurors with their work."

"As you know," Klaus said, "an Animagus is a specialised skill. The form is not something one can change, but once mastered, the witch or wizard is capable of transforming their bodies to make use of this form for the better of others. Today, we shall show you how we are doing so, and perhaps, help you understand the sacrifices many of these fine witches and wizards have made above and beyond normal service."

"Hogwash," Lyall muttered. "There is nothing an animal could do that a human with a wand couldn't do better."

Mrs Lupin shook her head at her husband and keep watching.

"If you look down on the green, you will see that each team consists of at least two and an Auror is always teamed with one Animagus, unless the team is blessed with an Auror who is also an Animagus. Now, sometimes, it is required for our teams to work out in the Muggle community, and it is absolutely essential that the Statute of Secrecy is not breached."

"When tracking lost people or hiding criminals, the concerns are the same," Klaus said. "Safety, efficiency, and accuracy. You'll notice that each Animagus has a bright orange collar or band of some sort on their Animagus form. This not only identifies them to their team members, but also to the public as agents of Animagus Rescue Team. In the field with Muggles, it is a highly visible colour often used to mark working animals and hunting animals. It is important for their safety that they be easily identified, both for their safety and ours. I'm sure if you were to suddenly share space with Brody here—"

A brown-robed Auror turned into a large Kodiak bear and roared.

"That maybe you'd want to be sure that they were on our side, yes?"

The crowd laughed as Brody the Kodiak Bear "bearhugged" the nearby Auror and wrestled him to the ground and lay on top of him. The Auror beat on him good-naturedly, yelling, "Ach! I yield. Get off me you big, fuzzy, overstuffed teddybear!"

"Sometimes, it becomes necessary to do search and rescue in very inhospitable climates that were never meant for humans to linger for long!" Klaus announced. "Sometimes we must do this in areas where Muggles can see us. In such cases, we must look the part."

An Auror waved his wand and created a sled, and the woman beside him became a large husky dog. She put herself in the traces and pulled him along the snowy paths and across a large expanse of ice. At one point, the sled stopped, and the Auror came out to help push the sled out of a rut, but the "dog" barked and held him by the sleeve. The dog Animagus tugged the sled around a harder path, and just as they reached the shore on the opposite side, the ice they had just rounded cracked and fell into the water.

Clapping filled the air as the Auror hugged his partner.

One scenario at a time, Aurors and Animagi teamed up to vanquish their tasks. A team of otters slipped into hidden underwater pipe to let their team into a fortress. A team of ferrets pickpocketed evidence from various places, and an Animagus bat delivered messages and small supplies in pitch darkness. a team of Auror and dog helped track a "fugitive" through the wild, while another helped find a "lost child." Seal teams did search and rescue in the water, fetching everything from objects to people. One after another, each team showed off their skills, leading to applause and mutters of appreciation. Everything from active work to watching out for their partner's back, obstacle courses, teamwork, and relay races had people cheering and laughing as team ferret tied the laces of a few Aurors together for their other members to get to the end first. Team otter, however, was not to be shown up, and literally crawled up the opposing team's legs and made them wriggle and writhe off the obstacle course while their human member finished the run. Team magpie stole the wands of just about every race runner and managed to pickpocket the Minister of Magic's wand right out from her pocket. Team panther tripped up the other team with her paws, allowing her human teammate to shoot ahead, and team hyena caused a ruckus in the stands, allowing their team member to run unhassled through the course.

Times were tallied, laughing was had all around, and the winners were pinned with honourable mentions being made for the most creative trip ups, distractions, and imaginative use of animal forms. Medals were awarded, and the ferrets and magpies stole them. The panther caught the ferrets. The falcons snatched up the magpies, and canines held the magpies in toothy prisons until the wands could be found to put all to rights. Meanwhile, the otters played cards with the squirrels, the lone hyena found a cake, and the bear sat on her before she could devour it.

Amusement settled over the contestants, and a light sense of approval came from the crowd. Opinions grew that business and pleasure could come hand in hand. The top of the afternoon, however, came in the form of show and tell. Alastor Moody pulled out a memory into a protection Pensieve that shared his memory of the raid in Hogsmeade.

A hushed silence fell over the audience as werewolves rampaged around the remembered battle. Animagi threw themselves into combat, protecting the line of Aurors without fail or hesitation. Some dragged the drugged children to safety as the larger Animagi went straight into combat. The bear was the most formidable in raw strength, and the inky black panther was arguable the most surgically precise. The hyena was both tenacious and brutal. However, when the team of wolves threw themselves into the fray to confront Fenrir Greyback, murmurs of surprise and wonder spread through the audience. It wasn't the bravery of the team or the fact they faced the notorious werewolf, but the seamless teamwork between wolf, centaur, bear, hyena, panther, and Aurors. Even in the midst of what should have been chaos, there was order.

When the image of the giant timber wolf that was Remus and Tuft's shared body, flanked by two black wolves as dark as pitch, descended upon Fenrir Greyback and broke his body, relief passed through the crowd. No one doubted the evil that was Fenrir Greyback. No one denied it was because of brave people, Animagi or not, that saved their children from a fate arguably worse than simply being a werewolf. All seemed to realise that to be a werewolf under the "command" of Fenrir Greyback was a fate worse than death. Even Lyall Lupin stared into space as the memory dissipated.

As the memory faded away, all the animal forms stepped out into site to stand with their Auror teammates. Cheers went up across the crowd, and even the Minister bowed her head and clapped politely in their direction, even as she glared at the small flock of wand-stealing magpies.

It was when the animals all changed into their human forms and took a bow with their arms around their Auror teammates that Lyall Lupin seemed to realise that his son had carved a name for himself despite his "condition." His wife wiped tears from her eyes beside him as she called Remus' name and waved.

There, in the middle of the team of saviours, was Remus Lupin. He stood proud and smiling with his peers, their black apprentice robes made them stick out in the sea of brown Auror robes. And when the Minister of Magic walked down from her seat and shook all of their hands, Remus looked up to see his father standing from his seat as he clapped his approval at long last.

Klaus Shattenjäger smiled from his position as a father and his "cursed" son took the first step towards bringing down the wall between them.

_Mission accomplished._

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Sis, talk to me," Regulus groaned. "Please."

Hermione spun around, hair frizzing out from her head like something out the _Bride of Frankenstein_. She stalked toward her little brother with enough molten fury to make a hurricane look calm. "How could you? You could have been killed! You could have been—"

"Turned into a werewolf?"

Hermione glowered down at him, her eyes glowing bright gold. "Do not even go there, little brother. Being turned into a werewolf is hardly the end of the world. Being subjugated by a child-loving perverted werewolf to join his unhealthy excuse for a pack and turned into a human-hating child-raper is far more the issue!"

Regulus' eyes went wide. "But… the potion—"

Hermione grit her teeth, and Regulus shrank from her.

"Make no mistake, brother," Hermione said. "Had Fenrir got his claws into you, he would have dragged you off into that cave, forced you to go undergo your first agonising change in his company, and then made sure your first meal was human flesh. He would have made sure you never took the potion, and then, when he was done, you would have been so twisted by his despicable pack that your inner wolf would have gone mad, twisting your mind into something like his: warped, twisted, and unnatural!"

Regulus swallowed hard. "I'm sorry!" he pleaded. "Sister, I had no idea. Surely you see that! It was just a party. It was just… I thought… I was jealous of you!"

Hermione's wrath came to a screeching halt, the ferocity in her gaze faded. "What?"

Regulus looked away, his face grimaced as if in pain. "I've been trying to make my own friends, branch out, do all those things you said I'd never have problems doing, but I… I can't seem to set myself apart from being 'Hermione's little brother'. Hell, even Sirius has more friends than me—"

Regulus was cut off by Hermione squashing him in an air-squeezing bear hug.

"Dammit, you bloody idiot," Hermione whispered into his ear. "Do you not see the trail of freaking fifth years pining over you the moment you walk by? The pile of brooms that Madam Hooch has had to turn away that a hundred some anonymous donors keep trying to send you so you can destroy even more Quidditch towers? Hell, Lily named one of her colognes _The Eau de Regulus_. You're not even out of your first year of Hogwarts, Regulus, and you're acting like if you don't have the same pain in the ass scrutiny on you that it's the end of the world. Can't you just enjoy the freedom you've been given?"

"Scrutiny?" Regulus whispered the question.

Hermione sighed as she stopped cutting off her younger brother's oxygen. "Do you think being in the spotlight is some grand place to be? Everyone is watching me, Regulus. Our parents, my Masters, the professors, the students, the press, and now even people who never gave a fig about me before because of that night we pulled you and a hundred other people out from under Fenrir… all of them are watching us. That's a lot of expectation to live up to. We're used to that, being in the Black family, but sometimes I just wonder if I could have a nice, normal, quiet life if I even knew what to do with that anymore."

"You've made father and mother so proud," Regulus said sadly. "I just… I just want them to be proud of me."

"They are proud of you, Regulus," Hermione sighed. "So, so proud. You should hear mother talk of you like some shining example of radiance. It's no wonder she was so mortified that you'd been caught up in that mess."

Hermione placed her hands on Regulus' shoulders. "Do you want to know the truth?"

Regulus perked. The truth was knowledge he was practically raised to cherish like gold. In most Slytherin dealings, many things were half-truths or concealed truth, but very rarely did they volunteer the information. Hermione and Regulus hadn't been able to sit down and talk heart to heart since Regulus had come to Hogwarts. Things had simply gotten in the way, and he missed his older sister's almost un-Slytherin emotional openness. He never doubted his sister's cunning, skill, or truthfulness, and he never accused her of mendacity. he did, however, miss the warmth of his sister's once ubiquitous affection—something she had not lavished upon him as often since his coming to Hogwarts.

"I was so scared for you," Hermione confessed. "I was terrified of letting you down, that I wouldn't get there in time. I had this vision of you torn to pieces or bitten all over from that monster's horrible attention. We've had so many first hand reports of what Fenrir was really like. Werewolves who fled his influence almost died trying to leave his unhealthy pack. He attacked and infected children to punish the parents, then laughed when their children turned and infected them or, in some cases, killed them. My Masters and Professor Slughorn have many, many stories from werewolves that were all made by Fenrir or his pack. They were all brutal, merciless stories. Fenrir liked to capture the families and friends of their bitten children and tie them up in whatever hiding place they chose for that month. He would wait for the moonrise, and in the morning, he would either welcome a newly infected to his pack or revel in the fact that they ate part the new werewolf's old family. He thrived on pain, suffering, and lust. He forced himself on children, forcing them to bear his progeny, and many of them died in childbirth before the age of twelve, Regulus. They were barely older than us, most of them. The rest definitely were younger than us, and they were broken. He broke them all." Hermione's voice cracked as she clenched her fists together. Her eyes bled into a pure gold. "His group was everything horrible a person could be, and everything unhealthy and unstable an animal could be made into. He wanted to spread the affliction to anyone and everyone he could so he could 'lead' them all to dominate the world, and I was so scared, Regulus. I was scared that he would have gotten to you."

Regulus clutched Hermione, his hands pulling against her apprentice robes as he pressed his head against her chest. He said nothing, but it was a familiar position. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and held him close. Countless times hiding in the wardrobe as their mother rampaged in the house had made such comfort familiar.

"I'm sorry," Regulus said, hugging his sister tight. "I didn't know. I swear, I thought it was just some stupid party."

Hermione held the back of his head with her hand as she let out her breath with a sigh. "I know, brother. You couldn't have known. You really couldn't have. You at least told Argus, and he was Johnny-on-the-spot in telling us when you didn't return as promised." She pulled back from the embrace and stared into Regulus' face. Her eyes flashed with fire. "But, if you ever cock up and end up at some some random bender again, I swear being a werewolf will be the least of your concerns."

Regulus gulped. "There is worse than being a werewolf?"

"Oh honey," Hermione purred, channeling a strong Hackney accent. "You could be a poodle."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hey, Black," James greeted as he plopped himself down next to her in the greenhouse. All of them had been assigned a plant to watch bloom, and every student was required to harvest a drop of the previous nectar the magical orchids released the first time they opened their flowers. "You seen Wormtail?"

Hermione raised one eyebrow.

"He's missing again," James sighed. "Your brother is looking for him. Last time we found him in the library, making a nest in the restricted section. Madam Pince had a Kneazle and docked Gryffindor fifty more points. It would have been ok if the git would have gone with Sirius, but he freaked out and screamed, alerting the old buzzard."

"Shouldn't you out there looking for your… friend, Potter?" Severus' voice was cold and curt. It lacked the timbre and bass of his older, acerbic self, but Hermione could sense sense the disdain as well as the disgust for one James Potter in her friend's voice.

Even after the discovery of the Malevolent Mixture that was corrupting James Potter and her twin, Hermione held the memory like a Black, which was to say it was practically forever. Severus, remembering far too well the mocking he had endured at the hands of James, Sirius, and Peter at the beach during the Winter Holidays, had an equally hard time "forgiving and forgetting."

"Look," James said with a sigh. "I was a git. I know I did horrible things to you both. I'm ashamed of it, because that means somewhere inside me, I was always capable of such things, and that scares me. It scares me because my parents taught me better. It scares me because I don't want to be known as the horrible git that stands on other people and laughs. If I were to have a child… I don't want them to how their father was such a horrible person. I don't want the Legacy of Potter to end with me being the victim of some stupid potion. You're a Pureblood, Black. You know how our Legacy is drilled into us from birth."

James looked serious and sombre, which was a direct contrast to the face he normally showed people. "I try very hard to make it look like I don't care for such things. I try even harder to not admit that I'm the last of my line. I'm my parent's last hope to continue the line of Potter, and I'm only thirteen. A hundred some years ago, I'd already be engaged, married, and probably have some arranged wife who was no more interested in me for being me than a rabbit loves a squid. My parents… they love me enough to let me choose. They loved me enough to give me freedom, and then I became known as the self-righteous arse-hat that tormented people."

"Did you know I traumatised some random Ravenclaw for weeks? I don't. She does," James said, his face twisted in disgust. "She can't even look at me without bursting into tears and running the other way. I dumped clam bits on some Hufflepuff and then threw him into the Black Lake so the squid would love on him. He can't even see water now without screaming. In Potions, he crawled into the back cupboard and wailed the moment we had to fill our cauldrons with water. That was me. I did that… and I dragged your brother into it with me. There are so many things I don't even remember doing, but the list is long. My parents read it to me as they tried to decide whether to pull me out of school and send me to America to study… or Australia. They actually considered Australia. They said an ex-prison colony would be a suitable place for such despicable behaviour." James winced, and for the first time, Hermione and Severus saw the weight of maturity on James Potter's shoulders. The jokester and prankster fell away to a boy who was expected to be more of man at the age of thirteen.

James looked grim as he looked into Hermione's face and then Severus'. "I'm sorry for what I did. I am. I don't want this thing that is between us to be my Legacy. Sirius said if it wasn't for you, your mother would have disowned him for being sorted into Gryffindor, and while I think that's extreme, I know what it's like to be expected to be something. My father was Gryffindor. I think if I hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, he would have been so disappointed. That's so much worse— seeing the disappointment in your parent's eyes."

James sighed. "Look. I went with my parents to the Mastery Board over the weekend after all that stuff went down and you guys rescued all those people in Hogsmeade."

"It wasn't just us—" Hermione began.

"I know," James said, holding up his hand, "but you were there. You didn't just save your brother. You helped save more than a hundred folk, and many of them were my House-mates sneaking off to have a gay old time when it wasn't Professor McGonagall's time to watch the henhouse. I could have been there, had Sirius and I not been trying to find Wormtail…"

James ruffled his hair with his hand., "I groveled in front of your Masters—both of them—for some way to make things right, and Sirius and I agreed that this was the best way."

Curiosity, the bane of all Slytherin, reared its head.

James pulled out a folded piece of parchment, "Your Masters said the only currency that would help my cause is knowledge, and it's knowledge I bring. Your brother and I have been working on a map to track Wormtail around Hogwarts." He tapped the parchment with his wand. "I do solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Ink drew itself into map of Hogwarts and spread across the pages. People walked the corridors. Dumbledore paced in his office. Pince chased Jasmine Silversickle out of the library. Twenty some first years swarmed on brooms around Madam Hooch. Then, abruptly, the map went completely black as though someone spilt an ink well over it.

"We haven't figured out how to get the enchantment to stay up long enough to find Wormtail. There are too many names and a very short window where the maps works. We didn't intend for it to track everyone, and I think the map overloads with all the people. But, here's the deal," James said. "In exchange for a restart, Sirius and I will tell you everything we did to make this map as it is, and, if you wish to make improvements for yourself, we will give you permission to do so. What do you say?"

James held out his hand.

Hermione and Severus exchanged glances, eyes flashing gold. They both put their hand on top of James' hand. "Done."

Just as they did so, Remus came busting out of the nearby foliage and placed both of his front paws on top of the hand huddle. He spat out a half-drowned rat. The rat looked up at them with wide half-crazed eyes, trembling in fear.

Sirius came stumbling in afterwards, panting hard. "Merlin, a wolf was chasing Wormtail across the green, and the bloody git turned into a real rat! Did he come this—oh." Sirius eyed the drowned looking rat and the hand and paw huddle.

Upon seeing Sirius, Wormtail squeaked in terror and tried to tear off into the greenhouse.

James lunged after, wrapping his hand around him, Sirius landed on the ground next him, slamming his hands around James', but the rat wriggled free after laying open James' hand with his teeth and pegging Sirius on the thumb.

"Ow!" they cried out together.

Severus threw out a stunner. Hermione threw out an Incarcerous, and Remus closed his jaws around the rat with a snap. All of them landed in a pile on top of each other with Remus laying on top of the huddle, panting copiously.

It was at that very moment the rare orchids decided to open their flower buds and their one drop of precious nectar started to drip down to the ground.

Hermione, Severus, and James all extended a glass collection rod at the same time. Remus transformed into his human form and extended a collection rod too, spitting out the bound Wormtail in his haste to not miss the collection. Sirius kicked out in order to wriggle free enough to reach the flower James had been holding for him as he chased after Wormtail.

Wormtail, having shaken free of the stunner and gnawed on the ropes, tore off into greenhouse with frantic squeaking.

Each of the children sighed in mutual frustration as they collected the precious nectar from their flowers at the expense of losing Wormtail, yet again, to chance and circumstance.

Poppy Pomfrey arrived shortly after to see the pile of children with their collection rods held in their shaky hands, each of them piled on top of each other in an ungainly heap. She eyed the nectar droplet and clapped. "Very good, children! Ten points for both Slytherin and Gryffindor for each drop of Nectar you've gathered!" She extended a vial and guided their droplets into it, filling the bottom of the vial with the precious orange nectar.

All of the children relaxed, and they rolled off each other. James pulled the blackened map out from under Sirius as Hermione, Severus, and Remus leaned on each other with a deep sigh.

"Sirius look!" exclaimed James as he pointed to the blackened map.

There, before their eyes, the map was clearing up, showing the names and structures of Hogwarts, spreading out from where Remus had drooled over the parchment. In the places that were untouched by the drool, the map remained blackened, but in every place his drool had been smeared by the fleeing, sopping, Wormtail, the map was perfectly detailed and stable.

"Remus," Severus said quickly. "Far be it from me to ask you to drool more than you already do, but I need you to drool over his parchment.

Remus looked suspicious. His eyes glowed golden, shared between Severus and Hermione. He sighed and changed into wolf form, drooling copiously on the parchment until it was sopping. The map solidified, and hundreds and hundreds of names swarmed around the map.

"WICKED!" Sirius and James said together, more excited about Remus than the map.

Screaming came from the other side of the greenhouse as Professor Sprout went running in the other direction. Students flooded out of the far end of the greenhouse as Pomona ran forward.

"Someone is caught in the venomous tentacula, Professor!" One of the second year students yelled.

"Everyone get back! Get back, now!" Pomona ordered. She flung out a few severing charms, cutting away some of the swarming tentacles from the screaming victim. She pegged a few tentacles with flames, and a few others with more severing charms. The tentacula was unwilling to give up its meal, however, and was tightening around its prey more and more.

Pomona, seemingly realising it was now down to victim vs plant with no saving both, set the vines aflame. The plant let out a piercing scream as it's tentacles burst into flames and shriveled away. There in the pile of charred foliage, was Wormtail, his body covered in bright green gashes over his body and multiple bites over his body. His body was human, but his head and tail were still a rat's. He twitched in the charred remains, moaning in pain.

Pomona hit the boy with a levitation charm. "Why is it always you, Pettigrew?" she muttered, pulling the boy along with her and out of the greenhouse. "Class dismissed for today, children. Clean up your workstations and have an early lunch!"

Pomona disappeared with the moaning Peter Pettigrew.

"What the hell is wrong with Peter?" James grunted, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "First he spend all his time trying to convince me to set against every Slytherin, and now she spends all his time channeling his inner rat and getting our House into trouble. I grew up with him. He was always such a good friend."

Sirius put his hand on James' shoulder. "Not your fault, mate. People make their own choices."

"The Pettigrews have been friends with my family for years before I was born," James said sadly. "But something is odd. I don't… I can't remember celebrating birthdays with him as a kid. We have no pictures, but when I think of him, I just know he's been my friend since I was little." James clutched his head.

It was Severus who looked grim as he put a hand on James's shoulder. "Do you want to know?"

"Know what?" James asked shakily.

"The truth," Severus asked flatly, his black eyes unflinching.

James nodded. "I want to know. If you can help me, please… why can't I remember?"

Severus exchanged looks with Hermione and Remus.

"You're the best of us at it, Severus," Remus said. "Tell us what you see."

Severus sighed and nodded. "Potter, do you freely give permission for me to shuffle around in your most likely cluttered and damaged brain?"

Hermione ribbed Severus with her elbow, causing him to grunt.

James squared his jaw. "Do it."

Severus looked into his eyes and pointed his wand at James. "_Legilimens_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As Barberry walked into the main room, Hermione, Severus, Remus, Sirius looked up together.

"Is he all right, Master Barberry?" Sirius asked with concern

"Master McGonagall is putting him to bed to rest. Even when you consent, the process of looking through the mind takes much energy. He'll be fine," Barberry said, placing his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "It was good you brought him here instead of the hospital wing in Hogwarts. We have some of the finest Healers short of St. Mungo's and he's going to need them to sort through his memories.

"Master," Severus asked. "How extensive are the restructured memories?"

"Deep, Severus," Barberry said. "Years back. Perhaps a decade or more, and from what Mr Potter has told me, his parents very well could be affected as well."

The trio exchanged worried glances, but it was Sirius that looked horrified. "Why James?" he asked. "What's so special about the last of the line of Potter that has someone so interested?"

Barberry lifted his head as Klaus Shattenjäger walked in from the door followed by Alastor Moody. "Ah good, thank you for coming you two. Klaus, if you would show our friend Alastor his memories? We have a long night ahead of us."

"Of course, Gilford," Klaus said, herding Moody towards the back of the room.

"My Apprentices, if you would please leave us to deliberate," Barberry asked. "I'm sure your friend would enjoy seeing the gardens. I will have a guest bed set aside for Sirius this evening and send the appropriate owl informing the people who need to know."

"Yes, Master," the trio chimed, tugging Sirius with them.

"What is going on, Gilford?" Minerva asked as she returned to the room. "Mr Potter is sleeping deeply. He will probably sleep through the night. Octavius is watching over him."

Barberry nodded grimly. "I am not sure, Minerva, but whoever is behind this mystery has no problem altering the memories of an entire family for some yet unknown end.

Minerva looked grim. "What could the Potters possible have or know that would inspire this?"

Barberry gently took Minerva's hand, stroking the top of her hand with his thumb. "Hopefully with Mr Potter's assistance, we will find out."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You live here?" Sirius said in wonder. This garden is bigger than the park across from our house!"

Hermione gave a small smile. "Our Master keeps greenhouses for the more tropical plants, and a charm over part of the garden to keep it growing throughout the year. The rest is allowed to be as seasonal as Scotland is wont to do."

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere near West Kilbride," Severus said as he picked a fruit off a nearby tree. He handed it to Sirius. "Unplottable. The ocean is over that ridge there."

"Kilbride?" Sirius asked. He took a bite of the fruit and made a horrible face. "Ugh! You're trying to kill me!"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Wait for it."

"Wha—OH!" Sirius' eyes went wide. "It's so sweet! I never… wow! It's like the sour candies the third years bring back from Honeydukes, only the sweet after is really strong!"

Remus laughed. "You got it wrong there, Sirius. The candies are like the fruit."

"It's almost mid-November, and you'd never know it by the trees here," Sirius said. "What Professor Sprout would do to get her hands on this garden."

"Oh, she has tried, but, Master Barberry is very selective on whom he allows in this place," Hermione said. "He has a more public house closer to London, and we stay there when we are to make public appearances to the Board, but for our normal lessons and trainings, this is where we come."

"No wonder you're rarely seen at Hogwarts," Sirius whistled. "It's a practical castle on the ocean here and you don't have to share it with as many people!"

Severus snorted softly. "We still take our out of field classes at Hogwarts, and we still live in the dorms there during the weekdays, if you hadn't been so busy chasing a rat around Hogwarts."

Sirius flushed. "He's really an Animagus? That tail wasn't just some oddball fluke?"

Hermione nodded.

Sirius frowned. "How is that even possible?"

The trio stared at him with polite disbelief.

Sirius waved his hands. "No, I mean, how could he have been without I or James realising he was? We were with him almost all the time. We sleep in the same dormitory room. We never once suspected he was capable of that. We never once thought he could poison us." Sirius slumped. "I was born in the House of Black, masters of paranoia and sniffers of what is suspicious and wrong, and I didn't even notice. I didn't even notice a rat sleeping in our midst?"

Hermione slammed into Sirius and drew him into a hug. "Brother, do not blame yourself. We have a feeling that Wormtail was not just some twelve year old with talent."

Sirius frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hermione sighed. "How much did you really pay attention to the Occlumency lessons father insisted you take as oldest boy-child of the House of Black?"

Sirius looked at his feet. "I skipped out on them to hang out with Violet Shadeberry at the playground."

Hermione let her breath out in a long sigh. "Then we cannot tell you, brother," she said, lifting her hand to stop him from protesting. "Protect your mind, brother. Grovel to our Lord Father and ask him for those lessons. Succeed, and I swear we will be able to tell you everything."

Sirius looked into his sister's eyes, conflict in his gaze. "What about James?"

"If you really care about your friend, you will teach him once you have learned it," Severus said grimly.

"That's a tall order," Sirius said, his eyebrows furrowing.

Severus' lips twitched. "You will be better for it."

"It could take a year or more," Sirius stated. "How will know when it is working?"

"When Severus can't read you like the _Tales of Babbity Rabbity_," Remus said, his green eyes has a sparkle to them.

"How does he get the pleasure of peeling my mind like a banana?" Sirius pouted.

Severus shrugged. "You are welcome to have Hermione test you, but she seems to be more talented in torture, and Remus… he'll give you fleas."

Remus grumbled at Severus.

"What about Remus?" Sirius said. "Why can't he do it?"

Remus shook his head. "Sorry, Sirius. When I try to read people's minds, I start drooling profusely and have this scary craving for peanut butter."

Sirius slumped. "Okay, I'll do it. I'm tired of being the last one to know everything that is going on. I'll even prostrate myself in front of our Lord Father and… admit I deceived him."

Hermione gave a smug smile. "Oh, brother," she said with warmth. "This is our Lord Father we're talking about. He already knows. You just have to make him a promise he will believe, which means it has to be true."

Sirius gulped. "Okay," Sirius said as he squared his shoulders. "I'll do it."

"Apprentices, attend," Barberry called from the balcony. "I need you to deliver messages for me."

"Yes, Master," all three Apprentices chimed together, dashing towards the balcony. Within seconds, a phoenix flew out over the garden and disappeared to the east, a dark eagle glided out towards the south, and a large timber wolf practically bowled Sirius over as he ran out the garden, leaping the garden wall by leaping against a nearby shed and using it to propel himself over the garden wall and out into the forest.

Sirius barely had time to register they had gone when Professor McGonagall came into the garden. "Come, Mr Black. I will show you to your room for the night."

Sirius flushed. "Thank you, Professor," he said with a slightly confused smile.

"Don't worry about them," McGonagall said with a smile. "You'll see them in the morning. She guided him back into the house.

Despite all the confusion, Sirius Black felt good about the future. For the first time, he felt he had a goal that was worth something. For once, he would do his sister proud instead of having her rescue him. And after watching the three Apprentices tear off in the skies and into the woods, he wasn't going to let Wormtail show him up in skill. He was going to study to be an Animagus and be able to beat Wormtail at his own game. James would surely agree with the plan. Hopefully they would both be something very stealthy and be able to track the rat through Hogwarts. Never again would they lose points because of Wormtail's bad rodent habits. Never again would they trust him when he disappeared into thin air.

Hopefully, Sirius thought, he could be a noble falcon or a stealthy owl. James could be small and stealthy, like a cat, or an ermine. It would be perfect. He could finally prove to his sister that he wasn't a dog.

Now if he just had any idea on how to become an Animagus.

Sirius turned in his temporary bed to stare at James, who was snoring fitfully in his sleep.

They'd figure it out, Sirius thought to himself. Surely he wouldn't need his sister's help for that.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** That would have a great place to skip to the future and have James stuck by his antlers in a door frame and Sirius with his snout stuck in a peanut butter jar and the rest of him being human looking, but alas there is more to clear up before the time skips. lol.

I have this image of Lily adopted a lost black puppy, not realising that it was Sirius… and then later realising that the puppy she'd been cuddling and carrying with her everywhere was actually Sirius… She'd be mortified!

I like the idea of Sirius and James thinking they will be this stealthy kind of animal because they think they are such stealthy boys only to find out that James is a conspicuous stag, and he's a black fluffball puppy that every girl wants to cuddle.


	33. 1973-1975 Chain of Custody

**A/N:** I love you guys, but, please, if I haven't posted One Step, it's because I'm either 12 feet under a pile of care plans, or I'm suffering from lack of inspiration. I am not neglecting it on purpose!

This chapter has a lot of plot twists. Might want to keep a notebook. LOL.

**Beta Love:** fluffpanda, The Dragon and the Rose (who is currently buried under a snowdrift), Sehanine (who puts the Brit back in), and dutchgirl01 (who was dragged in under duress with lures of previews) BETAS FOR EVERYONE!

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 33: Chain of Custody**

_**Friday, June 22nd, 1973. Last Quarter 64%**_

James woke up just in time for the early morning "pranking hours" as he was known to call them. It was the time when most people were still in bed. It was the time when Wormtail would mysteriously disappear, and he and Sirius would have the task of finding him before he did something typically stupid and got Gryffindor in trouble.

The almost-end of the last term at Hogwarts had passed with a haze, and James and Sirius had made multiple visits to the estate of Master Barberry since Severus had noticed that something wasn't quite right with his memories. His parents had made arrangements with the House of Black to allow their children to visit Master Barberry's estate for "mentality checkups." After Sirius' break down, and James' experience under the influence of the Malevolent Mixture, the both of them were recommended to see a specialist outside of Madam Pomfrey's expertise anyway. She had sent the notes to Mungo's, Mungo's had sent notes to their families, their families had sent word to Master Barberry, and he had agreed to "officially check up on their health." It was a tangle of officialities, but it it all came down to their needing to be an official paper trail to allow James and Sirius to leave Hogwart's grounds a couple of days here and there before term let out.

James couldn't shake the feeling that somehow he was failing his friend of many years, but after spending quite a few nights with Master Barberry picking through his brain, he was pretty sure that his worries outweighed any loyalty to his old—false—friend. James knew that there was a strong possibility that what was in his head were not actually his own memories. Peter was his childhood friend of untold years, and yet everything about him may have been a lie. What no one could seem to tell him was _why_.

Peter, of course, had been hobbling around the school on his faux foot, half oblivious to everything. Sometimes he seemed almost normal—the cheerful friend that James remembered. Sometimes he was babbling random nonsense that nobody could hope to make sense of. Even more disturbing, when he wasn't scurrying around as a rat, half rat, or ratboy, he was starting to, at least part of the time, look more like… a grown man—a very, well… ratty-looking man who appeared very much in need of both hair on his head and less hair on his face.

James wondered what reason anyone would have to fake being his friend. His family name was not spoken of with the same sort of reverence as those belonging to the Sacred 28. What, then, could possibly make him and his family worthy of such an elaborate ruse? Why was Peter starting to look like some weird old bloke?

James held his head in his hands, ruffling his hair agitatedly as he lay on his bed.

Sirius was snoring away raucously, but James was well used to it by now. He wasn't used to the soft warbling breathing that came along with it, though.

James looked closer in the dark, and there, nestled in Sirius' arm like a feathered pillow, was a ball of snoozing phoenix. Correction… multiple balls of snoozing phoenix. Bright red and orange feathers nestled next to the duller earthen tones as Fawkes snuggled up next to Hermione. Both of them were nestled tightly into Sirius, who was utterly oblivious to the current goings-on in his student four-poster bed.

Twin black eyes stared at him, and James realised he was being watched closely by an eagle whose plumage made him blend perfectly into the blankets and dark of the room. A rustling came as paws with sharp claws clicked steadily across the wooden floor.

A large timber wolf's head poked in from between the door and the frame, nose snuffling the air. Remus padded into the room, his huge bulk and glistening fur was indicative of his supreme good health. Wedging his head under Sirius' arm, he wrapped his mouth around the sleeping earthen phoenix and pulled her free, carefully carrying her in his mouth. Dark green eyes stared at James as he passed, but he turned his head away to return to the task at hand.

Tufted tail wagging in a friendly manner, Remus carried the snoozing she-phoenix away, perhaps to tuck her away in her own bed. The eagle and the red and orange phoenix took off, soon landing on Remus' broad back like oxpecker birds on the back of a rhinoceros. Within a few seconds, the wolf and the birds were long gone, leaving James alone with a drooling, snoring, and utterly unconscious Sirius Black.

James stared absently into the dark of the room as the door closed quietly behind them.

He wondered what Sirius might be as an animal. Would he be a stealthy black cat? It would help them both to be something stealthy and small so they could track Peter. That is, if Peter managed to stay at the school. Very odd things were going on with Peter, and James had no idea why an adult would decide to hang about pretending to be a kid. Or, on the other side of the equation, why anyone would want to prematurely age a kid into an adult? Who would want to make someone _older_ than they actually were? That made about as much sense as why anyone would go to all the trouble involved in setting himself up as his supposed childhood friend. The more he thought about it, the less it made sense, and James hated not knowing what the hell was going on in his own bloody life.

If it wasn't just him, and all this weirdness had affected his parents too, then he had even less of a clue as to what could possibly be so important that it would warrant the total bollocking mess that was Peter Pettigrew. Peter was more than just a little messed up. True, he was a bit off all the time, but James had always considered that to be just one of his amusing little quirks. He had never, not even once, ever suspected Peter of being a secret Animagus. He had never suspected him of being so duplicitous to him and his family and friends. Peter was just… Peter!

Only, Peter really wasn't Peter at all, was he?

His head was really hurting now. Thinking about it only made things worse. Or, maybe Peter had been true to himself all along. His true colours— his true hidden and more than somewhat mental colours—had been a part of him for far longer than he'd ever thought.

Well, if Peter could be an Animagus, then Sirius and he should have no trouble managing it at all. Maybe then they could follow Wormtail to whatever nook or cranny he was hiding in and find out the real truth. Now that they would soon be let out for the summer holidays, they could plot their own plans without worrying that someone would be watching.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Albus Dumbledore had a problem. It had been, at least for a while, a manageable problem, but it had slowly evolved into an uncontained, out-of-control sort of problem. Peter Pettigrew had finally outgrown his welcome, quite literally.

Peter was now surrounded by Aurors after a few Gryffindor students, one Miss Evans and her friends, had invited the innocuous Peter to their extracurricular brewing sessions to hopefully help calm him down. It had apparently been a regular occurrence since Peter's descent into conflicted personalities and loss of his leg. Everything had been great until Peter began to age in front of their eyes into a older man— an older man who still seemed as though he was twelve or thirteen at the most. He couldn't understand why his friends were screaming, and scream they certainly did. The transformation into a partial rat had been taken strangely well by comparison. The transformation into an older man, however, had sent the girls screaming to their Head of House, who had called in the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Heads of House, who had called in the Aurors for safety's sake, not realising that this strange older man was actually Peter Pettigrew. Many of the staff believed that the "real" Peter was somewhere out there and this particular Peter was an older wizard under the fading effects of the Polyjuice Potion.

With hundreds of portraits having witnessed the "strange older man chasing after a group of terrified young witches" as well as all the Heads of House having seen Peter in this new, older form, there was no brushing the problem of Peter under the carpet this time. At least, that was the case by any of the normal methods of dealing with such inconvenient annoyances. With most problems, one simply just suffered through the aftermath and waited for all the fuss to blow over. Albus knew that. Most problems were not worth the risk of tinkering, but this was Peter… and Peter required a little more risk to contain.

Albus fingered the small golden sphere in his hand and fiddled with the hourglass. He stood up, walked into the dark of his private chambers that connected to the rear of his office, and vanished.

Fawkes stared into the gloom of the chambers, his feathered head-crest rose into the air and then flattened against his head. He stared into the void where Dumbledore had disappeared and let out a long chain of warbles. The phoenix continued to stare and then, seeming to make a decision, he launched off his perch and flew out of the open window to a destination only he knew.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Did you know that phoenixes are said to be born from the streams of time?" Barberry asked as he watched Fawkes preening Hermione, who was in turn preening Severus, who was idly scratching Remus' ears.

All three apprentices looked up with bristling curiosity, always eager for whatever story their Master could provide.

"They are time-aware," Barberry said. "They always know when they are. Some say they can be in multiple places and times at once and that the sightings of multiple phoenixes are actually one phoenix in different places at different times."

Severus furrowed his brows. "That's silly. Fawkes is here. Hermione is here. That proves there is more than one."

Barberry chuckled. "It is legend, young Severus. Too few phoenixes to properly test. They do not particularly appreciate being poked and prodded. They tend to set themselves on fire in protest."

Severus snorted. "Serves them right."

Fawkes warbled his approval.

"Hermione is hardly a normal case," Master Barberry noted. "She is the only one I know that is so naturally a phoenix, yet at the same time, a human witch. Unless you have seen Fawkes transform himself?"

Fawkes chirped at Barberry quizzically.

"I suppose, if he had that secret," Barberry laughed, "he wouldn't be sharing it with us quite so easily.

Fawkes warbled a merry song. Suddenly, Fawkes' body seemed to waver and blur, but then it solidified again. The bird coughed up a small, round, golden ball. It went rolling across the hardwood floor with a ringing sound.

Fawkes warbled, singing merrily.

Barberry stared at the small golden sphere. "Oh, and what is this, my dear feathered friend?" He leaned down and picked it up gingerly between his fingers. His brows furrowed. The sphere pulsed steadily in his hand, like a living heartbeat. "My dear Fawkes… is this what I think it is?"

All three apprentices perked, approaching them with great curiosity.

"Phoenixes are very resilient animals," Barberry said. "Their eggs have reportedly never been seen. Many think that is because we have no idea what a phoenix egg might look like, so we wouldn't know it if we saw one.

Hermione startled as Fawkes preened her head and warbled. She eyed the golden ball and very tenderly put her beak around it. She plucked it out of Barberry's hand, oblivious to his bemused expression, and hopped over to Remus. She tucked herself against Remus' tail, tucked the ball securely under herself, sat down upon it, and proceeded to set herself on fire.

Remus' eyes grew very, very wide. He anxiously examined his poor tail, with obvious worry that he wasn't going to have a tail in a few moments.

"Is that…?" Severus began.

"I think so, Severus," Barberry said with amusement. "I think, we're about to experience a miracle."

Remus whined, and Hermione pecked his nose with her beak, causing him to emit a pained yelp.

Fawkes saddled up to Hermione, snuggling up to her. He set himself on fire too, and their combined halo of flames merged together, much to Remus' obvious distress.

"Don't worry, young Remus," Barberry crooned to the anxious young werewolf. "I think our two phoenix friends have it all under control."

Remus whined, obviously not convinced he was entirely sincere regarding his assurances that Remus would not finish the day as a hairless, naked werewolf.

"The male phoenix is a marvelous creature," their Master said with admiration. "He will spend his lifetime—which many say is eternal—hunting for the eggs of his kind that fall from the slipstreams of Time. He gathers them, just so, in a nest of his own careful making. He protects them, watching over them until chance brings a female to join him on the nest. Their combined fire hatches the eggs, guaranteeing that the young chicks will always have two loving and dutiful parents."

"That was an egg?" Severus asked. "It was so small. It looked like it was made of some kind of golden metal?"

"I think," Barberry said, lifting his wand and turning the paperweight on his desk into a convincing replica, "that someone has been using a phoenix egg to tap into the time streams. Perhaps, they were trying to use the slipstreams for their own ends. The phoenix is a natural time dweller. Anything else, would need to be very, very careful. Time tends to be quite dangerous for those not borne within its primordial flows."

"What would that do, Master? To the egg?" Severus asked.

Fawkes chirped sadly, his black eyes glossy with unshed tears as Hermione wrapped her neck around Fawkes' in comfort.

Barberry closed his eyes. "I have feeling the egg would last indefinitely in limbo until the right conditions were met, but to be used repeatedly as a source of power? That was a role it was never meant to fulfill and the egg would likely not survive being used thus."

Hermione chirped suddenly, her eyes wide and whirling.

Fawkes warbled in response, nosing her breast feathers as he peered beneath her.

Peep. Peep-peep-peep.

Two tiny black orbs stared out at Fawkes from underneath his newly recruited "mum's" warm feathers.

"Merlin," Minerva's voice came from the door, her hand frozen on her teacup. "Is that—?"

Peep! PEEP! PEEP!

"Lubby!"

Pop.

"Yes, Master?"

"Please bring our new arrival some fresh fruit from the kitchens, would you?"

"Of course, Master! Lubby is honoured to serve!" The house-elf swiftly disappeared with a pop.

The house-elf returned in a few seconds with a large, unwieldy, silver platter of piled up fruit. Grapes, figs, apples, pears, peaches, plums, strawberries, gooseberries, mangoes, starfruit, grapefruit, oranges, lemons, bananas, blackberries, raspberries, cherries, guavas, papayas, and a giant jackfruit wobbled somewhat unsteadily on the tray.

The little chick seemed to know exactly when food had arrived and cheeped a long series of hungry complaints that the food was not currently in its stomach where it belonged.

Fawkes and Hermione gobbled down some gooseberries and gnawed on the side of a mango, forming a mushy paste in their beaks and offered it up to the hungry chick. It peeped, flapped its miniature wings, and inhaled the food greedily. Fawkes took his turn, then Hermione, then back to Fawkes until finally the chick's stomach was considerably distended with a large serving of delicious fruit mash. It gave a satisfied peep and then promptly fell asleep.

Minerva fanned herself. "I think I just lost my heart to the little darling."

Barberry frowned at her. "I think I may be a bit jealous, Minerva."

Minerva smiled rather affectionately at him without a further word. Her hand gently patted Barberry's as they gazed down at the peacefully sleeping little chick.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_My Dearest Daughter,_

_Congratulations on becoming a parent! Your mother is fussing that you haven't had all the proper instruction just yet. I keep telling her that for the first few months it's all about stuffing the food in and cleaning up what comes out of either end, but she just waves her hands around and threatens the house sculptures with wanton destruction._

_Denebola is hiding under the kitchen cabinets, hoping it will all blow over soon. I would join him, but I'm a bit too large to fit in there._

_It does not surprise me at all, my young chick, that you have stumbled across nature's miracles before you have even graduated. Miracles such as those with a phoenix are very special, indeed. My grandmother said, back when I was young and wandless, that when she was a child, her mother once had a nesting pair of phoenixes hidden in her orchards. When all the fruit seemed to start to picking itself and disappearing, they began to investigate. Lo and behold, they found the nest of hungry peeping chicks._

_Apparently, she was so well taken to, the birds let her watch their nest. She watched them grow up. To this day, that orchard is still called the Phoenix Orchard. They say the fruit from that orchard is beyond anything to be found in the rest of the world. The fruits ripen all year long, even in the midst of the bitterest of winters. I'm not sure why I never told you this story before. Perhaps, I simply believed your head was already too full of my silly little stories._

_Your twin has groveled appropriately for squandering the money I gave him for Occlumency lessons back when I had insisted that he take them. I believe you are to blame for his apparent change of heart? Who else but you, my daughter, could inspire my son to drop the the floor and kiss the toe of my boot with genuine repentance, when all the yelling of my darling and most long-winded wife could not?_

_I have pulled the necessary strings to get him accepted in an exclusive summer program. He will not be able to spend much time at home this holiday, but if he truly means to do as he says, he will emerge much improved by the start of the next term. No Black should come of age and not have such talents well-honed and practiced. We never had such problems teaching you or Regulus. Regulus, as you know, practiced his emerging talents on your mother quite frequently. Mothers, I think, have their own special form of Legilimency. Now that you have hatched your first chick, my dear, do you feel you have been endowed with a wealth of newfound knowledge? Pray tell, your very curious father wishes to know the secrets of the most mysterious female gender._

_I have sent a parcel to your Masters detailing all that I know regarding phoenix nests. We do not have much information written down in our family records, but we do have our oral tales, which I have transcribed to parchment for their pleasure. I hope it will help you assist your feathered friend to find what is most precious to any parent. I can only sympathise._

_The photograph you sent of the young fluffball perched atop Master McGonagall's head was enough to cause your mother to crack a smile. Be proud, my chick, that is quite a singular accomplishment._

_Have you found a name for the little one yet? He looks like he's going to grow into a fine young phoenix. I can tell. I can see it in his eyes._

_Please let your Masters know that we have received the invitation to dinner, and that both I and your mother would be honoured to attend at Master Barberry's Estate on Friday evening at six o'clock. I look forward to hearing about your progress, and your mother, I know, is greatly interested in learning how your research into Time Theory has been spurred on by your most recent addition to the family. _

_You are making us all so very proud, my chick. I look forward to seeing you soon._

_Your loving father,_

_Orion Black_

_(his seal, the Belt of Orion)_

_(seal of the House of Black)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear James,_

_I think I found the perfect project for us undertake without setting off our Trace. We can start our meditations and make sure we hold the mandrake leaf in our mouth for one full month. _

_I accidently kept swallowing mine. Mum thinks I've had the dragon flu for the last week. I solved the problem by affixing the leaf to the roof of my mouth with a sticking charm._

_So far, so good. By the time we get back to school, we'll be able to work harder on it together without trying to suck on a mandrake leaf while speaking at the same time. Mum thinks it's great because I haven't talked back to her at all in the last week._

_Write me and let me know how you're doing, you lazy git._

_Yours,_

_Sirius_

_(his seal, Canis Major)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Albus,_

_I am not sure what emergency has arisen that you need to relocate an entire family to Norway, but I managed to call in a few favours to get it done for you. I swear if it weren't for the fact you helped my father out of that jam with the Aurors thinking he was aligned with Gellert Grindelwald, I would have told you to find someone else. It's taken all of my influence, all of my contacts, and even my childrens' savings intended to ensure their ability to study abroad at the Salem School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to get their names redone, the records rewritten, the magical seals stamped, the histories aligned to match, and the trail Oblivated. I hope this family is worth the considerable cost and trouble to hide their identities. I can only imagine what could be so important that you would go to such lengths to hide them away from the rest of the world._

_If you need anything else, please don't call upon me again. You've ruined me, and I don't think I'll have enough left to get my children into Durmstrang Institute next year._

_Sincerely, _

_Aksel Hummel_

_(Seal of the Norwegian Ministry of Magic)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Missing Norwegian Official Found Wandering Coast of Svalbard as a Polar Bear**_

_Aurors found the missing Norwegian Ministry official, Aksel Hummel, wandering the polar coasts of Svalbard today after his wife reported him missing to the Aurors Office. _

_Muggle wireless news agencies had reports of a "drunken bear" wandering up and down the coast trying to do "oddly human things", leading the famed Auror and Animagus team, known as the Polar Hunt, to go searching for it. Animagus Sven Whitepaw managed to drive the wandering bear away from the most highly populated areas where his partner Oliva Ashbough was waiting to assist. The bear was apparently driven to attack and had to be repeatedly stunned by the Aurors before being brought back to Norway's renowned Wizarding Hospital St Bjørnen for treatment._

_Aksel Hummel, while restored to human form, seems completely unable to tell anyone who he is or any facts of his life. Only his Ministry ID, tucked into his robes, was available to identify Mr Hummel before his wife and children arrived to confirm his identity. _

_An investigation is underway in hopes of discovering if anyone may have been targeting the victim's family or Hummel specifically, but many of his co-workers had nothing but the highest praise for his work in assisting Wizarding refugees in the process of moving to our country from recently earthquake-devastated Sweden. The earthquake, which struck a large Wizarding town as well as two nearby Muggle cities, had to be evacuated and all traces of the town obliterated due to the widespread efforts of Muggle search and rescue teams which have been deployed to search for any remaining trapped survivors. _

_These displaced citizens, thanks to Aksel Hummel, have been fed, clothed, and provided with temporary housing until their original homes can be rebuilt. Many have been praising his work, and no one at the Ministry could even guess who might possibly hate Mr Hummel enough to attack him and leave him wandering Svalbard as a polar bear._

"_He was such a loving, wonderful husband," Mrs Hummel cried as she gathered her children to her. "He loved his children very much. He wanted to help people. Who would do such a terrible thing?"_

_Aurors from Norway, Sweden, and the United Kingdom are attempting to gather and piece together whatever evidence they can, but many fear that the greatest piece to the puzzle was quite literally Oblivated from Aksel Hummel's mind._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_July 25th, 1973. Waning Crescent 25%_

Severus opened one eye and closed it as the sun blared into the room from the drawn curtains.

Hermione and Fawkes were nestled close together in the newly-constructed nesting box that he, Remus, Hermione, and Masters Barberry and McGonagall had created together. The ravenous chick was finally sleeping through the night, but everyone was very careful not to wake the little blighter lest he decide he was hungry again.

Remus was passed out cold in the bed opposite him, drool trailing down the corner of his mouth.

Attractive, Severus thought to himself, even in sleep he drools like Tuft.

The phoenix chick, which Master Barberry had named Zabulon, was shortly after nicknamed "Zab" or "Zabby" but the chick seemed utterly unconcerned with what he was called as long as food arrived quickly after.

Fawkes, ever the dutiful phoenix father, doted on the little chick like nobody's business. He cleaned the nesting box and refreshed the lining material, he mashed up fruit swiftly to stuff his chick's hungry beak, and he promptly shared sitting duties with Hermione.

Hermione, who seemed somewhat baffled by her sudden instinct to sit on, brood, and tend the adorable little lintball, often made distressed chirps from the nesting box. Her desire to move around warred with her need to ensure the little chick's safety.

Severus and Remus took turns soothing her, often wrapping their arms around her in a hug and falling asleep that way, at least until Zabulon woke up and demanded food, food, and more food. Yes, please. Thanks.

Thankfully, Fawkes seemed perfectly happy to brood his chick as well, and that allowed Hermione to escape, shower, continue her studies, and work on their research together. The only time Hermione was left distressed and alone on the nesting box was when Fawkes seemed to realise he had other obligations to attend to lest his secret be exposed. They had tried all sorts of warming charms and other such spells to keep the nest warm so Hermione could leave as she needed to, but the little chick would get so distressed when not covered in phoenix feathers and fire that they accepted that at that moment, at least, they were stuck brooding the little blighter the way he clearly preferred it.

It was then that Remus would either offer up his wolfen body as comfort or Severus would snuggle up next to her in his eagle form. Sometimes the chick would wriggle under him as he did with Fawkes and proceed to tell Severus all about how hungry he was.

Bateleur eagle beaks were not really designed for fruit mashing, but he did his best. Part of Severus was convinced that Zabulon would be the world's most confused phoenix chick when he grew up. He wondered if it would be same if a goose brooded over a crocodile hatchling and looked down into the nest only to think "what the bloody hell is that?" Imagining a crocodile growing up to be a perfectly respectable goose only made the mental imagery still weirder. What would poor Zabulon think he was once fully grown? A phoenix or some strange mishmash of phoenix, eagle, wolf, tabby, English robin, and human?

Sagacity hooted lowly from his perch on the side of the nesting box.

Or owl, Severus added, even Sagacity doted on Zab. Poor little bloke wouldn't know whether to hoot, sing, meow, or howl.

Sagacity noticed the chick had wriggled out from underneath "Mum" and was making an attempt to actually feed himself. The older owl hooted in encouragement.

Now that was a good sign!

Severus sighed with some relief. Poor Hermione could finally relax a little and disentangle the odd maternal instincts she had been channelling ever since the arrival of the adorable little chick. Strangely enough, thanks to the bond between Fawkes and their little oddball pack, all of them were channeling parental feelings regarding the little chick. Master Barberry was even teaching the little guy to sing like a proper English gentle-bird.

They really were a truly mismatched pack of strange and remarkable creatures.

Even so, Severus was certainly not complaining. They had shifted their summer research project over to the study of phoenixes, their rather baffling reproductive habits, and the rather interesting properties of phoenix fire.

It was becoming rather clear that phoenix fire was entirely dependent on the phoenix's mood or desire, and the fire that an angry phoenix sported was not the same warm and unburning fire that a brooding phoenix used to sit the nest or their chick. Most of that was pretty logical, as Hermione had already demonstrated her burning anger flames, happy flames, as well as a her smoldering flames when she was seriously contemplating setting her annoying twin on fire. Thankfully, phoenix fire didn't seem to burn anything the bird didn't wish to be burning, so when Hermione or Fawkes would spontaneously burst into angry flames, they didn't set their perch on fire. When that perch was Severus' shoulder, he was even more grateful for that rather convenient bit of phoenix behavior.

A low warble announced Fawkes' return to the nest, and he landed on Severus' duvet-covered rump with a thud. He talon-walked over to Severus' hair, preening it in greeting. Severus opened up the duvet to let Fawkes in, and he walked under the covers and set himself on fire, filling the space underneath with a warm, comforting heat.

"Psh," Severus chided. "I already did half the work for you. Where were you when it was actually cold, and I was shivering?"

Fawkes made a sad sound, setting his beak on Severus' aquiline nose.

Severus patted the phoenix gently. "It's fine. I know you had to go pretend to be a dutiful bird to the Headmaster."

Fawkes yawned beakily and snuggled into Severus, seemingly exhausted from whatever he had been doing in Dumbledore's presence.

The bond to Fawkes had only strengthened with the tending of the new phoenix chick, and Severus marveled at the layers of thought the bird put into things. He never spoke to him in words, instead transmitting feelings and images, but from what Hermione said she got with Sagacity, what they all were getting from Fawkes was perfectly normal. Well, it was as normal as being able to time-share a familiar was.

Remus was whining and growling in his sleep, which was amusing considering he was in his human form. His left leg twitched as though he was trying to itch himself in his wolf shape, and it looked as though he were going to have a go at eating his feather pillow. Severus pondered if Remus put silencing charms on his bed back at Hogwarts, or if everyone knew he had very lupine characteristics at all times of the month. No, had that been the case, Potter and Black would have clued in long before now on Remus' furry alter-ego.

Severus had no doubt at all that Remus was safe around the majority of Hogwarts regardless of what day it was. Tuft was far more trustworthy and capable of thinking things through than most teenagers. After watching Black and Potter get caught in Barberry's strangle-vines in the garden, it didn't take much else to prove that being human did not guarantee wisdom or clarity of thought. Though, he supposed, his father was the perfect reminder of that truth.

Fawkes was flopped over on his feathered back, begging for a tummy rub. They really did have an odd pack dynamic. Fawkes was picking up Lupin's love for belly scratches. Severus obliged him for a while, smiling when the bird's feet pumped in the air to bat at his hand. Hermione had shared her "past" memories of Fawkes, and none of them seemed to match up. It was part of why she doubted her sanity when it came to them. Their Master told them that they couldn't take anything for granted when it came to time. Just as there were many chances things could be different, there was also a great possibility that some things would turn out much the same. If the man who would become a Dark Lord was still making Horcruxes, then no one would be safe until the foul objects and their evil creator had been destroyed.

It was a little too much for the three young apprentices to fathom.

Severus' eyes flicked over to where Hermione was sleeping on the nesting box. Sometimes she seemed far more wise to the world than her youthful age indicated. She, like her father, Orion, seemed to carefully examine the world around them and weighed everything from a different perspective. Sometimes, she seemed like she was seeing things for the first time, and her sense of wonder gave him such a warm feeling that he wasn't was alone.

Though, he had to be honest to himself. He hadn't truly felt alone in a long time. It was all because of the brazen friendship of one Hermione Ankaa Black who had dared to ask he and Lily to be her friends.

Lily would oogle over the little chick if she found out, and Severus had discussed being able to reveal the minute fluffball to her, but both McGonagall and Barberry seemed adamant that revealing the chick to anyone that didn't know Occlumency would be a very bad idea. If the great Albus Dumbledore caught wind of the fact that his familiar had a chick in hiding, it could make things very bad for Fawkes. And none of them wanted to cause Fawkes to suffer needlessly.

So, they kept their public research to innocuous things that could easily be studied using tears, feathers, and other such things that were not supposedly impossible to obtain. The real research, however, was shared only with the elder masters, who were very practiced in keeping such knowledge both alive and safe simultaneously. That was the advantage to being an apprentice under Barberry and McGonagall; their research was meticulously recorded, but they made certain that said research would not be released to the public until the climate was deemed ready for such things. In the meantime, however, only the people who needed to know were fully aware of everything they were up to and could provide support, guidance, and encouragement as well as something they never had when they had been simply students at Hogwarts: people who were prepared to unequivocally watch their backs and keep them under their wings or paws as the case may be.

_It's such a relief_, Severus thought to himself, _to finally have someone who looks after me all the time instead of just when father isn't looking_.

He had no doubt that his mother did care for him. It was, at least until Lord Black arranged to help his mother escape his father, that survival demanded many things from her. Both the survival of herself and her son. He did not blame her for what she had to do or had done any more. The younger version of himself had because a child does not understand that their parents cannot do miraculous things all the time. His older self believed that the woman who secretly told him stories of magic and how wonderful it was wouldn't be the kind of person to cower under the drink-addled hand of Tobias Snape.

He knew better now. Sometimes circumstances were complicated, and love even more so. So, too, it mattered who you stood by in public, who you permitted to give their protection, and who you chose to protect due to them simply not knowing any better. Lucius had done his best to protect both Hermione and Severus while they were first getting their feet wet. Now, their reputations were their own and just in time for Lucius to graduate. It was time for them to protect others and ensure that they, too, got their unhindered starts in life. Oddly enough, they were protecting something they never thought would need it: phoenixes.

Fawkes yawned beakily, right in Severus' face, preening his nose and his eyebrows with the tip of his hooked beak. Severus eyed the bird warily, noting the capable and wickedly curved avian accessory. He knew Fawkes wasn't inclined to peck his eyes out or anything similarly violent, but he never lost proper respect for the bird's natural accoutrements.

Fawkes hopped out from underneath the covers and fluttered over to the nesting box. He preened Hermione dutifully, herded their chick out from under her with his beak, and sat on him properly, setting himself on fire.

Ah, phoenix love. It wasn't love until you could set yourself on fire.

Hermione groggily shuffled out of the nesting box and promptly walked over the edge of the box and fell to the ground with a rather dull thump.

Severus flung himself out of bed to pick the drowsy female phoenix up and carry her out of the room. She warbled sleepily, sounding very much like she was gargling with soap bubbles. Lupin slept on obliviously.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Somehow I doubt our Master planned this pool to be a hot tub, Hermione," Severus said with a sniff as he sat in the now hot and bubbling fountain pool. He had transfigured his robes into a pair of swimming trunks and was currently lounging up to his neck in the heated water.

Hermione warbled drowsily, floating lazily atop of the water like a duck. Phoenixes were buoyant. Good to know.

The she-phoenix had set herself on fire, which had quickly heated the cool water. Now, the pool was filled with steaming, burbling water. Mist was rising off the surface in the chilly morning air, but Severus was more than comfortable in the improvised phoenix-powered hot spring.

Hermione's feathers were adequately puffed out, giving her a pleasing, almost fluffy appearance. She sang out a chain of contented notes, obviously more than pleased to have a break from the nest and enjoy the opportunity to relax a bit.

"Who knew you'd find yourself a mum so early in life?" Severus commented, leaning back against the pool edge.

Hermione chirped, shaking her head back and forth. Her mind formed images of her holding a bundled baby in her arms, pulling back the swaddling, and exposing a fluffy phoenix chick.

Severus snorted. "Seems like your father was just fine with having a phoenix for a daughter."

Hermione sent him another image of her father with a happy expression cradling a baby hippogriff.

Severus spluttered. "I'm sure there is a limit to what even your Lord Father is capable of talking in stride, Ember," he scolded Hermione, resorting to her nickname. Oddly enough, she knew she had hit ludicrous conversation time when he called her anything but Hermione.

She stared at him. The image of an onyx figurine of an eagle filled his mind.

Severus snorted a reply. Even without words, they had no real problems communicating, and Severus was glad of that. When he had first come to Hogwarts, he had problems even looking another person in the face while speaking to them. Now, thanks to countless social encounters, being Slytherin, becoming Hermione's friend, as well as a formal apprentice to Masters Barberry and McGonagall, he was quite versed in complicated social acrobatics. Not bad for a boy whose father had a problem simply saying "pardon me" when he experienced a bout of flatulence.

Hermione kicked out, pushing herself to float towards him. She thumped into his chest and warbled.

Severus drew her close, rubbing her head crest with a small smile. After seeing Hermione's memories of his "future" self, he was glad that many of the things she had recalled had already been changed. He did not want to be the scowling, dour, intolerant man he had seen. He did not want to see that pained look on Hermione's face again after a chain of scalding insults had rained down upon her—not because of him, not ever.

There was a time when the only person he expected to be there for him was Lily, yet, where would he be now had Lily been his only friend at Hogwarts? Would he have ever been here? Happy? Would his mother have been freed? Lily and he had drifted away, not as enemies or anything extreme, but she had found her calling with her brewing friends and her toiletry products. She had found something she was passionate about. He couldn't fault her that. He, too, had finally found something to hold onto.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_My Dearest Daughter,_

_Thank you for a most enlightening evening with your Masters Barberry and McGonagall. It was very kind of them to open the estate for us to visit, and even more so to see your little hatchling._

_Zabulon looks so much like you did as a chick. I remember when you were barely dry, your down was all fluffy and your baby flames weren't quite sure what colour to be yet. The nurse at the hospital was so upset, thinking that any child that arrived looking so obviously inhuman would surely result in her being fired._

_Your father just scooped you up, kissed you on the head, and named you on the spot saying, "well, our family still has its Magic. Welcome to the House of Black, my little chick."_

_You fell asleep in his hands and slept right through your brother being born, already so loud and obnoxious. He even managed to slug the nurse on his way out. Alas, his manners haven't changed much since then. Sure, he always knows which direction is north, but what good is it to know how to get somewhere if you insult everyone you meet while getting there?_

_Your father seemed quite happy to share his wisdom on the subject of orchard tending. He seems to think that Master Barberry will be happy with a mixture of various different fruit-bearing trees ranging from cherry, pear, plum, and peach, but he also said to remind you to get some gooseberry plants. The greens are standard fare, but he thinks the reds will add different flavour and colour to the mix, and there are some mid to late season plants that have done well in our garden here._

_You did love your gooseberries, daughter. You loved them more than the bottle. Kreacher began to mix milk with fruit for you because you were such an insufferably particular infant that if there wasn't fruit in it, it clearly wasn't food! It was probably just as well, considering your twin wanted to hog both sides of the wet bar, as your cousin used to say. You did not hear that from me._

_I think, my daughter, that I know where your little chick disappears to. You said it always happens around noon, and he always comes back in a few hours? I noticed the other day that your father was fast asleep in the library. He had a book open on his chest, Denebola curled up between his legs, and a very fluffy phoenix chick nestled closely against his neck. Your little Zabulon apparently knows exactly where his doting Grandfather is. When I checked back on them a few hours later, the fluffball was gone, but your father was still fast asleep. Mystery solved, however, perhaps you have a new mystery to solve in discovering just how the clever little chick managed to make his way past all of your father's wards just to share an afternoon nap with him._

_I raised you, however, my daughter. I know that you would always manage to appear in your safest places, even after you had finally seen fit to bless us with a human form. Sometimes, I think you held off on sharing your human form just because you watched what happened to your twin when he was being smothered by relatives with good intentions. Don't think I didn't notice how you hid so stealthily in my hair and stayed so very, very still whenever Aunt Celestina came over or that dreadful Madam Horntail. Apt name, I believe. To this day, I am convinced the horrible woman was actually a real horntail dragon somehow transfigured into a woman._

_I am equally convinced that when you transfigured your brother into a dog that it truly was his natural form. He seems strangely fitting as a dog. Even your father seemed to find him vastly more agreeable with a tail and four legs._

_On that note, I noticed your brother trying to maintain a mandrake leaf in his mouth for the last few months. He must not be able to get past a month without ending up swallowing it, as he's been unnaturally sick at random of late, and even more unnaturally agreeable and cooperative to my requests. Your brother has always believed me oblivious to all things that do not involve proper behaviour, but if he ends up with a tail sticking out of his trousers and dog ears sprouting out of his head, I will be sure to send you pictures. Your father has become quite adept at taking candid shots of your brother's antics over the years._

_I don't see him being anything but a dog, my daughter. You've been calling him Canis since you were old enough to talk. All that remains now is to tell what kind of dog he will be._

_Your Lord Father seems to think he will be a Basset Hound. I have a feeling he will be something large and obnoxious like a Newfoundland. Would it be too much to ask for him to be a Komondor? Then, I could have Kreacher dip him in lemon cleaning water and mop the floors with him. He would finally be making himself truly useful!_

_The young Lord Malfoy was having tea with your father yesterday afternoon. While I was not privy to the actual conversation, I will take this time to ask you if you have been entertaining suitors. You are not quite the age where we were once expected to bring you out to a debutante ball; however, with all of the publicity and social presentations you have undergone from an early age, it does not surprise me that some potentials would test the waters. You could do far worse than Lord Lucius Malfoy, my daughter. _

_I feel I must remind you that no matter who you choose to allow courtship, the Four Kisses must be given, accepted, and reciprocated before we hear anything about you parading around with a suitor, my daughter. I know that we are being pressured to embrace what some are calling modern times, but we will not have you ostracised and have your reputation tarnished from accepting a Magic-fearing relationship. There is always that chance that the Magic will decide for you, but I would rather you not end up like your cousin Andromeda, whose father has disowned her for refusing to enter into a proper relationship. _

_Personally, I think her rebellion against the Old Ways, that one in particular, has always gotten her in trouble. That is something we cannot afford, my daughter. If our family is to remain proud of our magical heritage, we cannot shun that which made us so. Magic is the end and the beginning. To thumb our nose at it is to insult Magic itself. That is unforgivable. All that I ask of you, my daughter, is that you respect the Magic that has founded us. Without it, we are nothing. Our family would not exist. Our names would be syllables with no meaning._

_We are of the Noble and Ancient House of Black. We were founded in Magic. You were born from the egg of Magic itself and gifted to us, my daughter. I know I do not say it often, but you were born better. You were born in a wreath of Magic and fire. Let no one steal that from you by making you some common person who thinks because they have a wand that it makes them the same. You are not. Your purpose has been to set an example for those that stand in your wake. It is something you have done since your birth unto this world. You led the way for your twin and your younger brother. You have made us proud. You have given our Family honour and respect. Let no one treat you as common trash by disrespecting your Magic and your body._

_I look forward to the next update on your projects and studies, my daughter. I remain very proud of you._

_Your mother,_

_Walburga Black_

_(Seal of the House of Black)_

_p.s. Enjoy the biscuits. Kreacher insisted on making you your favourites on top of what I baked. He's insufferably sweet on you. Just be sure to share. Gorging yourself on sweets until you are sick is unseemly._

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_Sunday, August 12th, 1973. Moon Waxing Gibbous 98%_

"What if there is a larger nest out there?" Remus speculated, his eyes rolling back as he savoured the chocolate biscuit.

"Merlin, Lupin," Severus snorted. "Must you make eating look so vile."

Remus shook his head. "You have no idea. My mother could burn water, Severus. Every time she made biscuits, they came out like throwing discs or those clay targets people use to practice shooting. I gave some to my Muggle neighbour once to test. He said they were the best targets for shooting he'd ever had."

Snape looked horrified. "I can only imagine what that did to your teeth."

Hermione stared at Remus with abject horror. She patted her robes and pulled out a small and elongated box. "Here, Remus. Severus and I perfected the formula."

"Huh?" Remus mumbled, taking the box with raised eyebrows.

"While Your Drooliness was sleeping," Severus droned. "Some of us were doing real work."

Remus opened the box. "You made… toothpaste?"

"Not just any toothpaste, Remus," Hermione snorted. She nudged Severus with her elbow.

Snape smiled awkwardly, showing pearly whites.

"Merlin!" Remus exclaimed, practically shoving his face into Severus' mouth. "I've never seen such perfect teeth!"

Snape scowled at him.

Remus flushed. "Sorry, mate. Your teeth were yellow as parchment ever since I've known you."

Hermione whapped Remus upside the head. "Be nice!"

"I'm sorry!" Remus sputtered. "It's just—damnation."

Severus shook his head. "I am well aware of my previously imperfect teeth, Tuft," he grunted. "At least I never had wolf breath."

Remus clutched his chest. "Oh!" He collapsed on his back. "The agony."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As for your question," she answered. "I have a feeling Fawkes does have a nest of eggs somewhere. A bigger one. He just can't get to them."

"Can't get to them?" Remus gasped. "Who stops a phoenix? We've already seen that Zabulon just wills himself to be someplace when he really wants to be there!"

"What if there has to be a connection to the place a phoenix can appear at? Like with Apparition. You have to have seen the place to go there. You have to know where you're going to end up," Severus speculated.

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense. Zabulon didn't know my house, but he knew my father after that dinner where he spent most of the night snuggling up to him. As long as he anchors to one of the people he knows, he could show up clinging to our shoulder or, as in my father's case, nestled under his chin."

"So, wherever this place is, it's either a place Fawkes hasn't seen, or it's it's a place where no one he knows is at," Severus said.

"There could be something more sinister," Remus said after a moment.

Two sets of eyes stared at him.

Remus bit his lip. "When I was a child and first went under the change, my father set up very strong anti-magic wards," Remus explained. "He experimented on many, thinking that if he suppressed magic around me, that I wouldn't undergo the change. Instead, he just managed to make it so nothing that had magic could get in my room. He'd locked himself out of the basement. Even our house-elf couldn't get in to let me out. Mum was frantic."

"So if your father did that by accident," Hermione began.

"Someone could do it on purpose," Severus finished. "Maybe make it very specific to keep out phoenixes."

Remus nodded. "But why keep a phoenix from his eggs? Fawkes hasn't had a female phoenix to sit on the nest. From what Master Barberry and the other masters have said, the eggs are dormant until just the right conditions happen."

Hermione pondered. "Male phoenixes horde eggs. They find them, wherever it is they find them, then bring them back to his nest in the hopes that one day, he'll run across an agreeable female phoenix who will brood the nest with him and hatch the eggs. Fawkes was probably gathering eggs for years. What if someone found the nest and wanted to keep them to make those time devices?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide and panicked. "Oh no! No! In my vision, I used a Time Turner my third year. I used it all year! What if I… if that was an egg… I could have killed a baby phoenix!"

Severus grasped her hands and held them. "Hermione! Ember! Focus! Even if that vision of the future was true once, it's different now. Even then, you didn't know! How could you?"

Remus grasped her arm. Hermione's eyes stopped whirling as frantically. "Ember," he soothed, using her nickname as his green eyes bled into gold. "It hasn't happened. It won't happen now. If we find that nest, it won't have to happen again."

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded.

"It has to be at Hogwarts somewhere," Severus speculated. "Fawkes wouldn't stick around there otherwise. He's been there for years before he bound himself to us."

"But he was Dumbledore's familiar," Remus reasoned.

"What if that is why Fawkes was able to bind himself to us?" Severus wondered.

"Maybe he wasn't with Dumbledore by choice," Hermione said, her face darkening. "Maybe, Fawkes was with him because Dumbledore was the only connection he had to his eggs."

"That's horrible," Remus groaned. "Who would want to deprive the world of baby phoenixes?"

Severus drew the diagram of the Time Turner that had turned out to be a phoenix egg in the air with his wand, magic forming the shape in glowing, floating ink. "Someone who values time over life," Severus said, his black eyes bleeding into gold, mirrored by both Remus and Hermione.

All three of them scowled together simultaneously.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Lucius pressed his lips to Hermione's forehead, his fingers brushing against the skin of her face. "Hermione," he whispered. "I would court you as in days of old." He placed a kiss upon her forehead. His grey eyes met hers.

"My friend," he said, pressing his lips to her right cheek.

"I would have you as my equal," he whispered, pressing his lips to her left cheek.

"Will you have me, Hermione?" he requested. "If Magic blesses us, all that I have will be yours. All that I am— all that I will be, this I would share with you. I swore to you Lord Father, that no matter what decision you make, I will protect you with my life, for nothing will have changed. I will care for you no matter what name you bear. Pray, that you allow me to prove that it should be with me."

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed, her fingers brushing against his jawline. "My Lord Malfoy," she whispered.

"Lucius," he replied, staring into her eyes with an expression of genuine tenderness. "You of all people and now of all times, can call me by my name."

"Malfoy is also your name," Hermione quipped, her eyes quivering with emotion.

"You may call me anything you wish, Hermione," Lucius purred. "As long as the next words from your lips is yes." His mouth hovered over hers, but he paused, waiting.

"Yes," Hermione answered as she closed the distance between them. "I accept your courtship, Lucius."

Their lips met in a kiss as Magic flared, witnessing their union.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Miss Hermione,_

_I will not honour you by calling you a Black. _

_How dare you interfere with my son's engagement to Narcissa Black! How dare you show your ankles to my son and lure him off the path of duty. I will not have you and your pathetic attempts to prove how admirable you are ruin decades of planning and perfection of a Pure marriage mucked up by a feathered freak who was born a freak. I don't care what your father, Orion, thinks. You were not born of the Noble and Ancient House of Black. You were born as a fluke. A mutant— sucking up magic and making it your own instead of being Pure like my House. _

_You may have charmed the rest of the family. You may have seduced my wife into thinking you are a genuine well-adjusted girl, but I know better._

_I will not support the courtship between you and my son. _

_Mark my words, Hermione. I will see you broken as the harlot you are. I will see you burn._

_Yours in venom,_

_Abraxas Malfoy_

_(Seal of the House of Malfoy)_

_[Letter bursts into flames after being read]_

* * *

_Dear Lady Druella Black,_

_I have enclosed your half of the vials we agreed upon to fix this grievous dysfunction between my son and his horrible choice in unclean bitches and your daughter's foolish attempt to court that simpleton from the Ministry._

_Make sure her tea is taken before bed on the given day. I will assure that my son takes his, and his visits her in the morning after. Leave them together without disturbance until the deed is done._

_That will break whatever bond they thought they could form without our consent. The marriage will go on as planned. The dowry has been settled. I will have no one stand in our way. No one, not even our kin, will fault us for defending our oldest tradition of arranged marriage._

_Sincerely,_

_Abraxas Malfoy_

_(seal of the House of Malfoy)_

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_Dearest Hermione,_

_My heart sings after our last meeting. I am so very glad that you and I are proving compatible both in Magic and in affection. _

_Your chevaliers are indeed both protective and admirable. I am glad you have them, and I look forward to knowing they have your back throughout life. _

_I know our ages are little unexpected, but my father was married to his wife at the age of thirteen. I must say, we have at least matured more so than that._

_My father has been brooding in the background. After all his yelling at me to "marry a proper Black and carry on the Malfoy name" he seems utterly angered that I did exactly what he told me to. Mind you, there are many Blacks out there, but I chose you. You have never looked at me as anything but a human being. You say my title, but you know that is all it is. You judge me on my deeds, and I feel as though with you there, I could do so much more. I feel like I could be my own man instead of cowering under my father's dramatic and oppressive shadow. I see such hope in your eyes, Hermione. I never want to let you down. I swear I will do everything in my power to ensure I never see disappointment in your eyes when you look at me._

_When summer comes, I would take you with me to Utrecht. I think you would like it there. The people do now know the Malfoys or Blacks on sight like they do here. We could walk the shops and be two people enjoying each others company. No titles. No expectations. Only history and grand shopping. It has one of the largest bookstores in the country. I feel you would love it there. Please say yes, my love._

_I must go. There is business to attend to. I hope you are well, and I miss you, very much._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_(his seal, the peacock and the serpent)_

_(Seal of the House of Malfoy)_

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_Dear Lucius,_

_I, too, miss you very much._

_I would adore traveling with you to see Utrecht. My Masters have both agreed to allow it for "special consideration." I think they are privately very amused by our pairing. I know my father is very proud, and my mother could not be more happy. How she shows it may be harder to tell, but trust me… she is happy._

_I will admit, when I first met you, I had no idea what to expect of you. I had… misconceptions. But, something told me that I had to give you a chance— or I would be no better than the others who are so quick to judge me._

_I am glad I did. I am glad to have met you, Lucius Malfoy. I am also honoured that you see me highly enough to work for a future together._

_Severus tells me you have taken him and Remus out to wonderful Wizarding village in Denmark. They came back with such tales and bundles of reagents they are just busting out with excitement to use._

_Master Barberry sends his thanks for the rare rose water. Master McGonagall sends her thanks for the exotic catnip tea. However did you know?_

_I must return to making lesson plans. Your letters always bring me a smile. Please be safe. I miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione Black_

_(her seal, the phoenix)_

_(Seal of the House of Black)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_September 25th, 1974. Moon Waxing Gibbous 74%_

Zabulon sang a pretty warble from under Hermione's hair as Fawkes clung to Severus' shoulder. Hermione tapped the chick on the beak, projecting approval at his song but stressing a need for quiet. The chick, hunkered down in her hair obediently, disappearing into her hair.

A year had passed without incident, but the fluffy chick, who had long since learned to feed himself, seemed disinclined to fledge. He still sported his warm and soft down, somewhat plump body, and short neck of youth. As they had no idea what the normal growth rate was a phoenix save what Hermione's father could share about Hermione's childhood, they had no idea what was cause for concern.

Hermione's phoenix form had apparently fledged within a few years, but she had remained a more gawky in-between-almost-phoenix for years after that. Her earthy brown adult plumage, longer tail, and impressive and colourful headcrest hadn't filled in until Hermione had been eight.

* * *

"_I have no idea what is normal!" Hermione had said with hands up. "I'm not a phoenix!"_

"_Erm," Remus added. "Technically…"_

_Hermione glowered. "I'm hardly normal."_

"_How do we know that isn't normal?" Remus insisted._

_Hermione glared at Severus to help her out._

_Severus balked and swallowed hard. "Seeing as we have no idea what is normal, maybe we should just act like your maturation rate was normal until Zabulon proves us different? Fawkes seems content with where his chick is, after all."_

_Hermione sighed. "I suppose."_

_Fawkes had warbled a happy tune as his chick attempted to imitate._

_Severus shrugged at Hermione. "There we go."_

_Hermione had slapped her forehead with her palm. _

* * *

Each of the trio had grown their hair out long, with Hermione being only one who had hair long to begin with. Her curls hid the little chick perfectly. Then, when both Severus and Remus grew their hair out, the chick turn turns settling under their hair too, enjoying the comfort of his adopted family being close to him.

Oddly enough, they learned that the loud-coloured phoenix down could shift colours, allowing the little bird to blend into his nest, or, as the case may be, non-nesting location. Zabulon had never shown any propensity to hide before they had returned to Hogwarts for the classes they did not take under McGonagall and Barberry's direct tutelage. The chick, however, refused to be left behind from where the excitement was, and when Barberry and McGonagall didn't have him under foot, or Orion Black didn't have a napping interloper, Zabulon was hiding in the trio's hair to soak in all of the adventure he could muster. Ironically, everyone with even the slightest chance of having a Zabulon show up grew out their hair.

Minerva was eyeing Master Barberry with heightened interest, much to the blushing of their three apprentices. Barberry, in turn, took avid interest in "brushing Minerva's hair in line" every evening—for the chick's best interest of course. The trio was dubious, but kept to themselves.

The seventh floor of Hogwarts was rarely traveled in more than passing, which had made it easy to remain innocuous to the rest of the student body. They were always seen together, and the only thing that brought suspicion was when the apprentice trio wasn't together. The Board of Governors had approved the application for a combined apprentice quarters which separated them from the normal Houses so that they would be directly under the the supervision of Professor McGonagall starting their fourth year.

The Headmaster had voiced concerns that it would ostracise them from the rest of their Houses, but the Board shot him down, stating the request was well within the rights of a formal apprenticeship, and having such three well known apprentices housed at Hogwarts was a great increase in reputation for the school. The intake of students who wanted to start at Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had increased greatly, and many applications had to be turned down to keep the three schools more evenly balanced. Hogwarts, however, had the power to pick and chose who to intake and who to deny, and that was something they hadn't had to worry about in many years. Even more importantly, a few more of the faculty had started to keep their eyes open for talented students to apprentice. The trio were no longer the only apprentices at Hogwarts, and there were many at the Mastery Boards that believed that to be a trend towards something better.

Flitwick had taken a young half-goblin witch with a talent at charms under his instruction. Septima Vector had taken a young wizard with a great talent in maths as an Arithmancy apprentice. Kettleburn took the half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, who had been caught hiding on the grounds on a number of occasions, under his mantle to study the Care of Magical Creatures. Slughorn seemed interested in doing the same, but he seemed to be having trouble deciding on someone who was both talented and willing to hold themselves up to exacting standards.

"What did you call this place?" Remus asked, his nostrils flaring as he scented the hallway.

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione said softly, her hands brushing across the stone of the wall.

"How do we access it?" Severus asked.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said. "I remember we just needed it. We needed it… really bad."

"So, we just really need a room with hidden phoenix eggs?" Remus asked.

Hermione forced a smile. "Something like that. It has to be a real need. It knows if you're lying. If this is where You-Know-Who hid the eggs, the room would show up." Hermione rubbed her temples. Using Voldemort's old moniker for Dumbledore was painful. "If we're lucky, his need to hide them is not the same as his need to find them. Maybe the room kept them safe for quite some time." She ran her fingertips across the stone wall she knew the door to the Come and Go Room came and went.

Fawkes warbled wistfully.

"Fawkes has been needing to find his eggs for ages," Severus noted. "What keeps him from just needing to find them?"

Hermione let out a pained gasp, pulling her hand away from the wall as though she had been burned. She staggered and fell backwards with a groan.

"Ember!" Remus and Severus cried as they rushed towards her as her eyes rolled up into her head, and her body twitched.

Hermione's body was convulsing, her fingers clawed out as her body thrashed against her will. Her head slammed against the stone floor once before Severus threw his arm under her head to prevent it. Remus tore off his outer robes, crumpling them under her head to assist in the cushioning. Severus had a Patronus flying down the corridor with a wave of his wand, his hand shaking as he attempted to cradle Hermione against him.

Remus was cursing. He stared at the wall Hermione had been touching and frowned. A glowing rune was carved into the stone. Crackles of magic were coming off it.

It was a ward—a very specific kind of ward.

Fawkes warbled his distress, flapping his wings. The little chick in Hermione's hair was peeping his own miniature version, obviously unhappy with how things were going.

Remus and Severus exchanged glances, their eyes glowing golden as they worked in tandem to shelter and cradle Hermione.

"We need to get her out of this hall!" Remus urged.

"We need a safe place nearby to take her!" Severus hissed, his knuckles going white. "Someone could be coming any minute that we don't want knowing we're here."

Remus nodded.

Crackling and rumbling caught their attention. A huge door was forming in the wall where the glowing ward was. The ward remained, but Remus seemed to think of something. He got up, heading to touch the door handle.

"What are you doing?" Severus exclaimed. "You saw what it did to her!"

"It's a specific ward, Severus," Remus said. "I'm pretty sure. You saw what happened. We needed a place to take her. The door appeared. She's not going to touch the wall. We're going to take her in with us!"

Before Severus could stop him, Remus opened the door, throwing himself on it with a grunt. the door creaked open, exposing a dark room. "Onyx, come on," Remus hissed. He knelt down to help grasp Hermione by the shoulders. "Help me get her in."

"What if someone comes by and just walks in the door like we did?" Severus hissed.

"Worry about that later. Maybe there is a good place to hide in here!" Remus replied. "Come on!"

Severus squared his jaw and hooked his arm around Hermione's and helped drag her into the newly formed room. The door closed behind them as Hermione's feet passed through the threshold.

One small and scarlet coverlet feather drifted down to the hallway floor as the door in the wall vanished from sight.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hello, Albus," Minerva greeted as she walked down the seventh floor hallway. "Missing the times when we had to patrol every night so much that you had to relive the adventure?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he sucked on a lemon drop. "No, Minerva, no," he tutted. "Just admiring the old trolls in tutus tapestry. Barnabas the Barmy's attempt to train trolls for ballet was a bit ostentatious, even for him."

Minerva hummed. "I can't say this was ever one of my favourite tapestries, Albus. I much prefer the ones in the Tapestry Corridor."

"The ones in the Tapestry Corridor are terribly normal, I fear," Albus commented. "Perhaps I will move this one down there to liven things up."

Minerva winced. "It would be your choice, Headmaster," she said, obviously disapproving. She dusted off the extremely large vase that was nearby. "I don't think the house-elves even like to visit this corridor," she commented after a moment. She leaned down and adjusted the neglected vase with interest and paused to tidy something off the floor.

Albus tutted. "Now, now, Minerva. I'll talk to Argus and make sure he's cleaned this area. I'm sure he was getting to it. He is only one man in a very large castle."

"Well," Minerva commented. "At least he isn't located in that dreadfully leaky far corridor anymore.

"I was under the impression that Argus liked his privacy, "Albus said with a shrug. "Had he told me he preferred to be more social, I would have arranged for him to have the old Caretaker's quarters."

"Privacy is one thing, Albus," Minerva chastised, "but I'm sure when he asked for privacy he did not mean Timbuktu."

"You are right, Minerva, of course," Albus acquiesced. At least that has been taken care of."

McGonagall nodded.

"How are you apprentices shaping up, Minerva?" Albus asked. "I know Septima couldn't be happier to find a kindred spirit in the art of maths."

Minerva sighed. "They are extremely helpful when it comes to helping me prepare for my classes, Albus. I will terribly sad when they aren't around to assist the first years in proper incantation and posture."

"I am sure that Master Barberry felt the same when he lost you as his apprentice, Minerva.," Albus said with a smile.

Minerva snorted. "I think Master Barberry was happy I was no longer there to steal his favourite chair in the sun."

Albus stroked his beard. "I may have done you a disservice, my dear," he said after a while. "Insisting you apprentice outside of Hogwarts when I could have taught you here."

The elder Animagus shook her head. "You weren't ready, Albus. It worked out in the end."

Dumbledore smiled. "It's kind of you to say so, Minerva. I shall leave you to your patrol." The senior wizard spun and drifted down the hallway without another word.

Minerva's warmer smile hardened after Albus disappeared down the hallway corridor. She eyed the brightly coloured feather squeezed between her index finger and thumb.

Severus' Patronus had led her here, and it was altogether too suspicious that Albus would be here in the exact corridor she found the phoenix feather. The more she thought of her apprentices, the more sobre her expression became. Gold crept into her eyes, filling them with a preternatural glow.

The wall beside her shuddered, crackling, as a small and almost unseen door appeared in the wall.

Her hand reached out to touch the door that had formed there.

Well then, she thought. It seems my need is greater than yours, Headmaster.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Remus sighed with relief when Minerva came through the door.

"Thank goodness," he said, letting out his breath.

Items of all description surrounded them, making it extremely hard to see anything due to the presence of everything imaginable. It would have been a perfect hiding place, had they actually moved further than a few metres into the room itself.

"What happened?" Minerva clucked, going down to her knees next to Hermione.

"She ran into a ward on the outside wall," Remus explained.

Minerva narrowed her eyes, but when Severus nodded in affirmative, her face was lined with worry. "Can you draw it for me?"

Remus drew it in the air.

Severus shook his head. "No it had a mark here," he corrected, adding a few more marks.

Minerva touched Hermione's cheeks with the back of her hand. "She's burning up.

"She was really really cold a minute ago," Severus said with concern. He tugged the extra cloaks they had around her to keep her warm.

"That rune is old," Minerva muttered. "It is a combination of Odin's illusionary rune, a binding ward, and something—" She stared at it.

"He added something to it, though—" Suddenly Minerva pulled the feather out. "He added a phoenix feather."

"He meant to hurt Hermione?" Severus seethed, looking ready to do some very unwise career choices.

Minerva shook her head as she examined Hermione. "No, Severus. I think he meant it for Fawkes. It's his feather. The ward was to affect a Phoenix trying to touch that wall in just that place. She just happened to touch it and also be a phoenix— enough of one that the spell didn't differentiate."

"So he meant to hurt Fawkes?" Remus exclaimed, looking just as inclined to so something terribly foolish.

Minerva centered herself. "No, Remus. I think it was meant as a deterrent. The first part of the rune was meant to conceal. The second was to keep Fawkes out. Something went wrong. No, the magic is wrong. Whatever Albus did, it wasn't to cause this. I know we've been watching him, but this… this is something else."

Hermione was shaking, her body convulsing. Her teeth were chattering. The little chick was chirping frantically from her hair. Remus herded the little bird off her shoulder and towards Fawkes who promptly sat on him to calm him.

"Ssssssoo cold," she whimpered. "So cold." Her teeth were chattering.

"She's burning up, Master," Severus observed insistently. He had pulled over a bowl that had appeared and used his wand to fill it. He dipped a small towel into it that the room had also provided and patted Hermione's forehead. The water steamed off her forehead almost immediately.

Her skin was growing hot to the touch, the colour changing from pale to flushed.

"Lucius," she moaned. "I can't feel him. I can't—there's something wrong."

Her clothing was starting to smoke, and Fawkes was making a odd crooning warble in his throat.

The boys held her hands, stroking her skin. She whimpered, clinging to them.

"Ah!" Remus and Severus said together, their hands leaving Hermione's simultaneously. They both looked at each other in a panic, rubbing their hands in pain.

Hermione screamed as her body was consumed in sudden flames. Her body thrashed on the stone floor. She gave a piercing wail as her body was covered in bright red fire. She cried out. "Help me!"she cried, her voice filled with terror. "Help me, please!"

The flames were turning orange, and Hermione body was going into a ball. She tore at her body, writhing, screaming, wailing for help, but everything Minerva threw at her didn't seem to help. Every spell Remus and Severus attempted to douse the flames only created scalding hot steam.

They had to scamper out of range as the flames spread out from her body as she flailed.

The flames burned brighter; the orange turned to blue, a lighter blue, and then a searing hot white. Hermione's hand reached out to Severus for a moment just before her body bucked and jerked. The three of them watched in horror as her body jerked up like a puppet on strings. Her arms flailed outward like she was going to make a snow angel. Blue flames wicked outward from her burning body.

Hermione screamed, but it was unlike any scream they had heard before. It was a birdlike cry of pure emotion, hitting them in the gut with both fear, anger, and betrayal. They knew at that very moment exactly who she blamed, and it wasn't them. Just as the phoenix song would fill them with joy and happiness, her cry filled them with righteous anger and molten rage.

The room around them shimmered and blurred. The light grew very, very dark, until only the burning Hermione remained visible. Her body was wreathed in bright white flames as she let out a final, piercing scream.

The flames around her formed into a shape of a phoenix made entirely of light and fire, and vortexed outward, blasting the gathered backwards. Minerva shielded Remus and Severus with a spell shield, gathering them to her body as she shielded both them and herself from the wake of fire, magic, wind, and emotion.

Everything went pitch black—blacker than night, blacker than char—as black as Hermione's hair.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Lumos!_" Minerva said into the darkness.

A bright light illuminated the room.

Smoking charcoal and ash surrounded them.

Remus coughed, and Severus had his arm over his face, trying to filter his air to keep himself from couching like Remus. Minerva coughed a few times, squinting in the gloom of the room. Even with her _Lumos_ spell, it was drearily dark.

Everything around them was in various states of char, the fire having consumed everything in an almost perfect circle around her epicenter. The entire room hadn't been taken by the blaze, but they could see exactly where the magical fury had extended and then, miraculously, stopped.

"Are you okay?" Minerva asked the two boys.

Remus nodded numbly, and Severus looked at her with haunted eyes.

Minerva looked around.

Ash, charcoal, smoke, cinders, and more ash surrounded them.

Fawkes warbled, his feathers and body in flawless condition. He lifted his wing to expose his fluffy chick. Zabulon cheeped, looking around him with obvious wonder.

Remus, snapping out of his shock, took on his wolf form and frantically began to sniff around. Severus, however, made straight for the pile of ash where Hermione had once been. His expression hit Minerva in the gut with the heaviness of his despair.

Minerva winced. Their bond had been tight. There hadn't been a day since they they began their Hogwarts career that the two had not been together both in class and outside of it. She watched as Severus hung his head over the large pile of ash, his knees giving out as he slumped. His shoulders trembled; his fist closed tightly. His eyes forced themselves closed.

Peep. Peep. Peep-peep.

Severus' eyes shot open. His hands went out in front of him, digging through the ash with haste. His hands scooped out a squirming pile of ash, and two ash-covered feet kicked out of the pile. Two ash-covered wings fluttered as an ash-coated head crest rose from a disgruntled looking head. One black beak opened, peeping in protest as Severus clutched the ash-coated phoenix chick to his chest with a sob. Tears washed trails of ash off the little phoenix.

Remus came bounding over, and he used his paws to tip Severus over onto his back and land on his chest, pinning him down. His tongue shot out, slurping the ashen phoenix over and over until she looked like the colour of mud.

She nailed Remus on the nose. He yelped, but continue to bathe her, his tail wagging furiously.

Fawkes and Zabulon fluttered over, perching on top of Remus who was pinning Severus down. Fawkes let out a happy warble which Zabulon attempted to imitate. Zabulon hopped over to where the reborn chick was protesting her treatment as the target of the wolf bath she was getting. He fluffed up his downy feathers, sprouted a number of more mature feathers, and sat on top of her, setting himself on fire with a happy cheep.

Minerva sat down, letting her legs just give out. She startled as a soft sofa cushioned her fall, courtesy of the room.

"Well, this is going to change everything," she said to herself.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Lord Abraxas Malfoy,_

_It is done. _

_My daughter and your son have broken the bonds between their previous partners by consummating their relationship with each other. A quick test proved that Narcissa is successfully with child. The marriage will go on as planned. Since they have forged the bond carnally, the magic sealed them together. We will have no worries that he might come to his senses and go crawling back to his whore, and we have no worries that Narcissa will go slithering back to her pathetic Ministry boy._

_I am glad this is over and done with this distasteful business._

_Sincerely,_

_Cygnus Black III_

_(his seal, the swan)_

_(Seal of the House of Black)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Druella,_

_I regret to inform you, that despite our extensive efforts, your daughter Narcissa has miscarried. While seeing to her treatment, we discovered a strange cocktail of potions in her system that we had problems tracing._

_While we cannot say for certain what all was in her blood when she conceived, it is quite likely that the body miscarried because it knew the baby would be defected thanks to the potions. _

_I know it is not my business, Druella, but we have been friends a long time._

_There was Amortentia in her blood, and the Psi-healers detected a broken courtship bond underneath her most recent marriage bond. There is a good chance that because of this, she will never be able to carry a pregnancy to term. She will be lucky if she conceive again. _

_Since you did not bring her to me when the courtship bond was broken, I can only guess as to what is going on. I pray you did not marry your sweet daughter against her will._

_I dare not think what the karma of that will be._

_Sincerely,_

_Healer Greenbriar_

_(Seal of St. Mungo's Hospital)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Ministry Official Magnus Mallory Found Dead in His Office**_

_**Aurors Suspect Foul Play**_

_Mr Magnus Mallory of the Ministry of Magic's Office of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was found dead in his office after days of being missing. _

_His office, which was always locked and separate from the others due to sensitive material, was opened once the official report of his being missing came through the pipe._

_Magnus was found dead on the floor of his office. There was no sign of forced entry, but Aurors have commented that there were traces of Dark Magic on his body. Investigations are ongoing._

_Magnus Mallory was looking forward to his upcoming wedding with Lady Narcissa Black, whose pictures were plastered on every open area of his office. The happy couple was scheduled to marry in the spring of next year._

_Interviews with the Black Family, however, seem to have mixed reactions. Part of the family, such as Lord Orion Black and his wife Lady Walburga are horrified by the news. Narcissa's father and mother, Lord and Lady Cygnus Black, seem utterly relieved._

"_Finally, our daughter can keep with tradition," Cygnus said. _

"_We weren't going to stop her from marrying her heart's desire," Lady Druella commented, "but I think fate thought differently. Magic decides. That is our way."_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Dear Lord Black,_

_If you are getting this parcel, it means something has happened to me. I do not know what, but if you are getting this, it means Hermione is in danger, and somehow I was compromised._

_In this parcel is diary— a very special and vile diary._

_I am not sure what truly went into its making, but my father values it greatly, and so I do greatly loathe it. _

_The cover says Tom Marvolo Riddle— the man who is luring Pureblood families to help him in his cause. I found something the other day. I moved the letters around._

_Tom Marvolo Riddle._

_I am Lord Voldemort. _

_This Tom Riddle is half-blood wizard riling up the people to be his pawns in a war of supremacy in which he is no more a Pureblood than Julian Abernathy at the Owl Post Office._

_I urge you to check any "gifts" you may have received from those supporting this new Lord Voldemort. I have a feeling they are much like this diary. It is blank, yet it is not. I can feel the magic crawling in its pages. _

_I send you this because I have a feeling my father is up to something. I do not know what. If something happens to me, please, tell Hermione my last thought has always been of her. I love her. I will always love her. _

_I will keep my promise to keep her safe._

_Your humble servant,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_(his seal, the serpent and the peacock)_

_(Seal of the House of Malfoy)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Sunday, January 26th, 1975 — Full Moon 99%_

"It's so good to see them… whole again," Minerva said as she stared out into the garden.

Three wolves stared up at Fawkes and Zabulon as they warbled a happy tune from their perch on Barberry's fountain. Zabulon was finally showing his adolescent plumage and longer neck. His red and orange tail was draped behind him as it swung back and forth.

Barberry covered Minerva's hand in his. "Those three have faced hell and back, Minerva. They have survived. They will live, and they will thrive. Above all, they will survive."

"I cannot imagine someone forcing their child under Amortentia to break a Courtship bond," Minerva said quietly. "Not ever."

"It was a dark deed, Minerva," Barberry replied. "Darker than any deed a parent should ever do to their own child."

"They didn't just pay the price," McGonagall bemoaned. "They made their children pay the price. Narcissa now Malfoy… they will be lucky to ever have children. Abraxas… the worst case of Dragon Pox this country has seen in centuries. I hear Cygnus is shriveled in places the male of the species do not ever wish to be shriveled. His wife is attracted to every man who isn't her husband, bringing shame upon his branch of the family more than any crime against Magic."

Barberry nodded grimly. "I think it is time to do what we had started before this unfortunate mess with Abraxas and Cygnus came about."

Zabulon warbled a cheery tune and the three wolves howled in tune under the full moon.

"Find a nest of phoenix eggs in a haystack?" Minerva asked.

Gilford smiled and pressed his lips to Minerva's forehead. "Maybe after we're done."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Oh my. Look at all that stuff in this chapter. *sweatdrop* Makes up for the long time between posts, yes? *heart* And now, back to that regularly scheduled care plan writing. *sobs* hold me.


	34. A Fee for Every Nicks

**A/N:** Don't piss off Orion Black. Just saying.

**Beta Love:** Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 34: A Fee for Every Nicks**

_Wednesday, March 13th, 1975, New moon 1%_

"Oooorion Black," Abraxas elongated the name with a curl of his lip, spitting out the name Black with undiffused loathing.. He took a moment to look utterly disgusted before he began to cough. Smoke was billowing in clouds from his lungs as though he had a blazing hearth lodged in his chest. "What brings you to my house, uninvited, and with such brazen arrogance?"

"My arrogance, Abraxas?" Orion Black ran his fingers along the back of his opposite hand. His grey eyes were so dark they were almost the colour of wet slate. "You have no ground to stand on, Malfoy. Not anymore."

"The House of Malfoy will reign supreme. It always has. It always will," Abraxas snarled. "No thanks to you and your freakish branch of the family. Make one stupid move, Orion, and I will see you _burn_. I will see you wriggling on the end of my hook, pleading for mercy that will never come. Then Cygnus will have every opportunity to burn your name off the family tree. All of your vile, disgusting… you didn't even have the balls to kill that mutant, freakish child you call a daughter at birth as she should have been. You didn't teach her where her place was. You encouraged her to defile my son, my heir with her unclean touch. Her filthy, muddy reputation."

Orion's eyes bled into a dark, fathomless black. "You arrange for your own son… your own flesh and blood to fornicate with a woman who is engaged to another man. The kisses were given! The bond was clean! Magic may not have bound them as they did with myself and Walburga, but magic did witness the courtship. You. You defiled the ancient ways. The Magic we are all founded in. You might as well have thumbed your nose at Merlin himself and called him a squirrel."

Abraxas spat, flinging his arm out, sending his tea service spinning to crash across the room. "I did what had to done. Your whore-daughter bewitched my son. Turned him away from me! Turned him from the Old Ways!"

"_Your_ ways, not the Old Ways, Abraxas," Orion said with deadly calm.

"The Old Ways are _my_ ways!" Abraxas yelled. "You have lost your way in these modern times. You tolerate scum around your house. You live surrounded in heathens and dirt. You live near the unmagical—the unworthy filth that pollutes our world. You cater to the highest traditions of the lowly house-elf. You mount their disgusting heads on plaques so they can 'watch over their family for all time'." Abraxas scowled at him. "How weak can you be, Orion? Honouring a lowly house-elf? You should have cast off their bodies to rot in the gutter where they belong."

"They serve us honourably for generations," Orion said evenly. It was their only request that they be allowed to watch over my House as they always have. We have portraits. They prefer… a more physical connection. Who am I to judge the loyal their final request?"

"You are the Head of your House!" Abraxas snarled. "You should stand upon the broken bodies of all those foolish enough to not bend to your will!"

"All I do is for my family," Orion pointed out, "and while my oldest seems to have some difficulty with the concept of heedfulness, he is, at least, improving. When my family members choose to act against my wishes, it is never because they believe me to be an inapproachable and unreasonable man."

"They should not think to disobey your wishes at all!" Abraxas growled, coughing harshly as tendrils of black smoke continued to emit from his mouth and flaring nostrils.

"Oh? And you think the Wizarding world was founded on the mind of one man? One wizard? Or one witch, perhaps?"

"No mere witch has any place in power," Abraxas coughed, his fist clenching tightly. "_We_ are the masters. Without us, there is _nothing_."

"There would be no more young wizards if it were not for witches, Abraxas," Orion reasoned. "The respect my family gives to me has always been earned. Can you say the same?"

The elder Malfoy curled his lips into a snarl, and his teeth flashed. Strange, jagged, teeth twisted up out of his gums. They were not remotely human at all. "I do not need to earn anything, Black. My name is all I need."

"So, that gives you the right to break a sacred courtship bond?" Orion seethed.

"I was not the only one to know the best for our families, Black," Abraxas spat. "Cygnus and I had planned the eventual marriage of our children from the very day his Narcissa first slid from the womb. It was the only proper fate for a girl-child. He knew it was the only thing a man cursed with three daughters could hope to do. His woman, that Druella, was easily convinced to spike her daughter's tea. She knew her place. She knew that if she didn't do what her Lord husband wanted, she would be beaten as per his right, or her husband would take away her toys— her access to the family Gringott's vault and her precious jewels. She did it gleefully, without the slightest hesitation. Do you think one such as her would willingly give up the name of Black for the sake of one little girl-child? No. Both were more than willing. The dowry was already paid. Everything was going along perfectly until your filthy wench of a daughter stole my son's eye."

"You do harm to your own son. You break a bond that results in the death of both a witch's unborn child and her chosen life partner. You set out to murder my beloved daughter! And now I hear the young witch, Narcissa, may never be able to bear a child, thanks to your foul and sadistic machinations."

"Better my son be with a Pureblood witch and a proper Black," Abraxas stated coldly, "than with your whorish Mudblood whelp. That idiot at the Ministry, our world is well rid of his pestilential existence. He was trying to give equal rights to the bloody _centaur_. Those creatures are below real people— just as your daughter is not even worth dignifying with even the title of human."

All remaining traces of tolerance and calm in Orion Black went out the window as that chosen epitaph passed Abraxas' soot-stained lips. "On my family's honour, Abraxas Malfoy, I call you out in the ways of Old. Draw your wand."

"You dare pull out the old laws over a familial anomaly?" Abraxas coughed harshly again, pulling out his wand. "I was at the top of my class at Hogwarts. I will utterly destroy you."

Orion tugged the fine cloak from his shoulders, letting it rest on the back of a nearby chair.

"I formally challenge you, Abraxas Xerxes of the House of Malfoy," Orion intoned lowly. "In accordance with Our Ways, upon this day, I give thee the choice of wand or blade, with nothing further, than what Magic did gift us from birth. This, I challenge you, at this time, until the very end of your life or mine."

Abraxas smiled wickedly, coughing a tongue of flame. "I hear your parents couldn't handle you, Orion," he taunted. "I hear they shipped you off to the Americas to get your education because Beauxbatons wouldn't have you. What chance does the likes of you have with someone like me?"

He drew his wand. "I accept your suicide request, Orion of the House of Black. I look forward to watching your woman cry and wail as I have Cygnus burn them from the family tree. No one will stop me once you are dead."

Orion was sombre. "Choose your weapon of choice, Abraxas. As the defender, that is your right."

Abraxas showed his malformed, jagged teeth. "Magic is my choice, Orion, and I will wipe the floor with you."

Orion tugged his collar free. "So it has been agreed. Let Magic decide the victor."

Abraxas smirked. "I was the top of my dueling class, Orion," he gloated. "You will have no chance at all."

"We shall see," Orion said, his eyes dark with the steel of his control. "May Magic bless the winner," he said formally.

"May Magic fail you when you need it the most," Abraxas replied venomously.

The pair put their backs to each other and walked out.

Orion's eyes narrowed as he heard the scrape of shoe against the stone of Malfoy's marble floor. Abraxas never could play fair.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Auror Aloysius Wood was suddenly very glad he was under Orion Black's magic resistant cape. Hundreds of wards and spells were layered into the fabric with the kind of artistry he had not the money or the skill to put on his own clothing. If Aurors wore clothes with kind of magic he detected in the silk, he had a feeling there would be far fewer accident reports being filed.

Wood's partner, Auror Edmund Fitzjames, was waiting just outside the property's external wards. They had a constant spell, the _Vita Comminatio, _ open between them, so if Wood's life was threatened at any point, his partner would be alerted instantly without need of code words or a Patronus. It was imperative for the Auror and Animagi teams. Most of them were not particularly talented at direct mind-to-mind communication, so it was something they had developed to reduce unnecessary Auror injuries and casualties.

A vase smashed beside him, raining shards of priceless porcelain down on the cloak. Spells were hitting the ceiling, walls, and everything in between. Portrait occupants were yelling and diving for cover, the family hounds had come flying in, barking wildly due to the fracas, and Abraxas seemed to press that advantage without the slightest hint of regret. Furniture was splintered, one panic-stricken house-elf was struck by an Unforgivable, and Abraxas was starting to look a distinctly more inhuman with each minute that passed. Technically, Unforgivables were only unforgivable when used against other humans. It was a technicality, but a family's mistreatment of their house-elves was not actually a crime under magical law. He also had no legal ground to stop a valid challenge of family honour, not that he could have ever done so at that moment. Both combatants were wound up like tense springs. One wrong move and he had no doubt that two wands would be flinging spells directly at his face before they realised he was not their current foe.

The pocket of Orion Black's cloak was suddenly looking mighty comfortable and safe, indeed. He cautiously stuck his nose and head out of the rumpled edge of the cloak, nose working and ears twitching. Abraxas was a bloody mess. Every so often, he would cast a spell that Aloysius hadn't heard of, but he was aware it was very Dark. Dark spells always felt distinctly different from the typical offensive spell. As an Auror, they were trained to recognise the _feel_ of spells in order to shield from them, or, as the case may be, quickly get the hell out of the way.

Aloysius scratched his neck with his tiny hind foot. The bright orange collar he wore to identify himself as a member of the Auror Animagi was also conveniently a recording device. This protected the Animagi by establishing an independent, tamper-proof record of their actions while on duty, and it also captured specific details of each encounter, including the magical signatures of all parties, in addition to recording conversations and registering the specific spells being used around them and which magical signature had cast which spells. The enchantment was quite impressive, and Aloysius wasn't sure who had done all the work to create it, but was a godsend when the wearer was injured or otherwise unable to give an oral report or provide memories— something that happened all-too-often in Auror work. They weren't hit wizards with reserved beds at St Mungo's, but they weren't exactly babysitting kids on their first trip to Honeydukes either.

Hit wizards did have the more intense assignments due to the nature of their job— tracking and capturing the most infamous Dark wizards and witches out there— but Aurors had a hundred different tasks a week that were often as peaceful one moment as they were dangerous the next.

Thankfully, each Auror was equipped with a handy toolbelt of useful items stuffed into pockets with undetectable extension charms on them. An emergency potions kit, bandages, medical spell-o-tape, medical chocolate, emergency rations, protective weather gear, spell-warmed blankets, and even snow shoes. There were things in the belt that he hadn't fully explored yet. Once he had pulled out a mince pie while trying to find his magical handcuffs, much to his partner's amusement. He'd been so embarrassed that he had holed himself up in his flat that weekend and bonded with his tool belt until he knew what was in each pocket without even looking.

Aloysius's eyes went wide as the fireplace came abruptly flying towards him, burning wood raining down on the marble floor as Abraxas hissed something vicious at Orion. Vivid green, red, and multi-coloured beams zinged around the room. Yet, even as he was starting to think the entire estate was going to come crashing down due to the proliferation of massive holes in the walls, he saw that Abraxas was getting more and more out of control, while Orion was becoming more and more controlled.

Abraxas was sporting an impressive draconic muzzle. His hands were twisted into cruel-looking claws. Bony wing-bones were erupting from his shoulders and out of his back as a bloody membrane was slowly spreading between the bones. His eyes were an eerie greenish yellow, narrowed into reptilian slits. Glossy, greenish-black scales were spreading across his pale skin. He was, quite literally, turning into a dragon.

Aloysius had seen the medical warnings regarding unusual complications of dragon pox, but most cases of the disease were merely annoying rather than debilitating. One strain turned you an unhealthy shade of green highly reminiscent of the Leaky Cauldron's pea soup. Another caused you to break out in bright pink, extremely itchy spots and made you drool like a goblin gazing at a mountain of gold. Whatever was happening to Abraxas, however, seemed to be tapping directly into his magic. Certain darker spells seemed to sharply accelerate the transformation he was undergoing. Oddly, he was not having any difficulty casting deadly spells at Orion, but his temper was growing steadily worse. He was also spouting fire regularly. If it was a new strain of dragon pox, Aloysius didn't want it. Ever. His son had come down with African Whistling Sickness, which had caused the boy to break out in dark purple zebra stripes, and start whistling like a tea kettle on full boil. He could only praise Merlin that it wasn't contagious.

"You would throw your life away for the sake of some misbegotten creature that proves exactly how defective your branch of the noble Black line really is?" Abraxas hissed. His voice was twisted and growling, low and vicious. "When you are finally dead, I will take care of your family. I will make sure your filthy freak of a daughter never breeds by making certain she never draws another unclean breath. I will mold your youngest son into a fine example of a proper Pureblood male. That older son that you choose to coddle like a useless woman, I will make sure he finds a very _special_ ring I've been keeping in my vault. Oh, he will suffer a most unfortunate accident. "

"Abraxas," Orion said levelly. "Do you now remember how our families were founded? Magic founded our families, blessed our families, and created the very blood in our veins that sings the Old Songs of energy and power. Yet, the ultimate blessing would be to see our children born of the very magic itself. My daughter was bestowed with the rarest of blessings the moment the Magic gave her life. It gifted my family with the joy of unbridled energy, the joy of life, and a forgiveness I did not think humanly possible. She brings a smile to my dear Walburga. When she cries the flowers bloom and wounds heal. When I see her eyes, I know I could not bear to see that tainted poison of prejudice and hatred that had grown in yours since you were very young, Abraxas."

Orion shook his head. "When your son came to me and begged to be allowed to court my precious daughter, I gave him my blessing only if he promised to care for and protect her no matter what response to his kisses she might give. He swore to me on his honour and his life that no matter what she said, he would hold her in his heart until his very last breath. I knew then, that he felt as I did. I knew he could never hurt her deliberately."

"And then you—" Orion continued, his knuckles whitening as he grasped his wand tightly. "You destroyed a kind love— a genuine love. Magic may not have formed a new line, but it had blessed them with warmth. They would have had glorious children. They would have been powerful. You threw that away for what? A dowry agreed upon when Narcissa was born? You forced a break so vile that Magic itself is punishing you for your arrogant impertinence. Can you not _feel_ it? By Merlin, man, you're covered in scales! You can barely speak! How can you not feel the Magic rejecting you?"

"Magic does not reject Abraxas Malfoy," Abraxas hissed, flames coming out of his mouth with each harsh pant of breath. "Magic does what _**I**_ will it to do!"

"I suppose you willed it to transform you into a hideous draconic hunchback?" Orion retorted.

Abraxas lost all semblance of sanity and roared loudly in a total rage. He spat out a chain of incantations in hissing speech, causing a wave of fire to pour out of his wand. "Die in flames, Orion Black!"

Dark magic surged as the Fiendfyre spouted from Abraxas' wand, and Aloysius squealed shrilly in shock and surprise. Fire spewed forth as a giant serpent twisted and keened in a tower of flames.

"_Stay in the cloak, Auror Wood," Orion had warned him. "No matter what might happen."_

Aloysius buried himself in the pocket of the cloak as the fire roared past him, just missing the protective pile of fabric. _Merciful Merlin!_

Aloysius was an Auror, it was true, but he was also a hedgehog Animagus. Hedgehogs were not known for running bravely into Fiendfyre, so it took him a moment to realise that while he was not burning, the spot where Orion Black had been standing had been surrounded and bathed in a roiling sheet of flames.

He hadn't even heard Orion scream.

He realised he had to do something, and his mind raced to remember the spells used to contain and put out Fiendfyre— the most tricky of fires due to its almost unnatural will to "survive."

With the surge of Dark Magic, Abraxas doubled over, crying out as the next wave of his transformation caused his hands to clench and spasm painfully. His wand fell, but it continued to spout flames to feed the fire. Fire was consuming everything. The paintings' inhabitants were screaming hysterically and fleeing to portraits elsewhere if they were lucky enough to have one, the unfortunate house-elf's corpse was consumed in a roar of flame, and five of Abraxas' fine hunting hounds were now but pitiful piles of ash. The rest of them had fled the manor with howls of canine terror.

With a deep breath, Aloysius knew that he had to make his move. First, he had to send his Patronus out for backup. Then, he had to get control of the Fiendfyre. No stress there.

Abraxas screamed hoarsely. It was a frighteningly inhuman cry of total agony. The Fiendfyre was doubling back on him, and it was burning him alive. Yet, even so, unlike the still silent Orion, it seemed to accelerate his transformation into the dragon that Magic had been forcing him to slowly become since the dragon pox had first infected him.

Aloysius quickly transformed, pulling Orion's enchanted cloak around himself as he resumed his human shape. He sent his Patronus zinging out the room with a dramatic wave, threw a handful of odd-looking jacks from his hand into the fire, and cast the layered counter for Fiendfyre. The enchanted jacks melted instantly, but the moment they did, they let out puffs of cool white mist that seemed to drive the fire back. His counterspell did the rest, driving the roaring fire back and down, depriving it of oxygen and magic— the two things every Fiendfyre needed to survive.

The fire roared in defiance and charged at him, and he hastily threw the cloak over himself. The fire screamed as it covered him, finding nothing there to burn. It fizzled, searching the room frantically for something— anything—to devour, but it had already done its job far too well. There was simply nothing left to burn.

Aloysius uncovered himself and cast the counterspell again, layer after layer, and this time, the remaining fire hissed and moaned as it was dampened and extinguished except for one area: the circle of crackling flames where Aloysius was fairly certain the corpse of Orion Black was being steadily consumed by the last of the fire.

Suddenly, a dark paw reached out of the burning fire and then another. A massive mane shook as fire flew off in sizzling gobbets, then they fizzled and died. A gargantuan lion moved out of the burning fire, seemingly unaffected by the flames. Then, Aloysius realised why.

It wasn't a lion at all.

Sharing the lion's shoulders was the head of a great horned goat. The horns of the goat burned like embers. The creature's eyes were molten orange pools of flame. Its tail was a serpent with long fangs exposed as it struck the air reflexively. Fur and scales melded together in perfect harmony. This was no standard chimaera like they described in the manuals— lion head, goat's body, and dragon's tail. This was _the_ chimaera of the ancient Greeks, and it was very clearly annoyed with the situation it currently found itself in.

The lion's head belched fire so hot it was almost white, and the goat breathed out a sort of pale, greenish, gas.

_Cover your nose and mouth, Auror Wood_, Aloysius heard in his head. _Use the cloak._

Shocked and stunned as he was, Auror Aloysius was neither a slouch nor an idiot. When a giant mythological creature that shouldn't exist happens to walk straight out of Fiendfyre and tells you to cover your mouth and nose, by Merlin, you did it!

The creature roared, leaping onto Abraxas, his long fangs burying deeply in the dragon's scaly neck. Abraxas roared, his wings flapping, beating frantically at Orion's body, but the chimaera was not budging. He pulled back his rear legs like pistons, and clawed down the much thinner skin of Abraxas' scaled belly.

Abraxas cried out, writhing, tearing Orion off him, his powerful dragon's tail prying Orion from his body and flinging him into the remains of the dying Fiendfyre. The chimaera, however, seemed to actually feed off the flames. The fire seeped into the beast's horns, and he blasted a jet of fire very precisely into Abraxas' face and squarely into his eyes.

Abraxas roared, clawing at his own face, thrashing with both wings and tail. He smashed the walls, he crashed into the pillars, and he slammed his body into the outside wall, breaking out of the manor and into the gardens where a team of ten very surprised Aurors went scrambling for cover in all directions.

The chimaera stood on his rear legs and roared loudly. Then his body seemed to shrink in on itself and he became Orion Black once more. He squared his shoulders with a distinct crack of bones and twisted his face into a snarl. He grasped his wand in hand and pointed it at Abraxas. "I was not sent to the Americas for my schooling, Abraxas. My family sent me to Durmstrang, and there I learned exactly how to deal with the likes of you."

"My daughter was born a phoenix as I was born a chimaera and my mother was born a sphinx. Her father was born a manticore. One child of each generation is blessed with the rarest gifts of Magic in the House of Black. My. Defective. Branch of the family," he spat. "We have been blessed by Magic's Kiss. What has it given you, traitor?"

"Lord Abraxas Malfoy," Aloysius panted, his wand out and pointed at the defeated dragon writhing on the ground, still clawing futilely at his scalded eyes. "You are under arrest for crimes of conspiracy, murder, and attempted murder. You are not required to say anything regarding these charges unless you wish to do so, but understand that whatever you say may be given in evidence against you."

Ten other wands immediately backed up Aloysius's.

Suddenly, Abraxas reared back his head and let out a massive belch of red-hot flames. The Aurors scrambled. Protective spells went flying out in all directions. Magic ropes wound around the dragon's powerfully muscled body. Stunning spells went zinging through the air, and a giant rain cloud formed above the gardens and poured heavily down on everyone present.

Then, in right front of everyone's eyes, the dragon that had been the wizard Abraxas Malfoy disappeared with the distinctive fwoop of a departing Portkey.

"Bloody hell!" one of the lead Aurors barked. "Get me a trace on that damned Portkey! You, Aloysius! Get that collar recording to the office now! Jennings, tear this house apart for Dark Magic. If it even looks at you funny, I want it in stasis and sent back to the office on the double. What are the rest of you idiots staring at? MOVE!"

Aurors scrambled out of there like ants whose nest had just been trampled by a herd of centaurs.

Aloysius walked over to Orion, who stood silently in the rain amidst all the chaos. He took off the cloak and handed it to the Black family patriarch. "Your cloak, Lord Black. Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Auror Wood," he said simply, shrugging on the cloak.

"Sir, if I may ask," Aloysius began. "Why take the cloak off at all? You could have used it during the fight."

Orion favored him with a bemused expression. "You needed it, Auror Wood. I did not."

Aloysius stood with a baffled expression as Orion Black drifted by him as though everything that had happened was just one more event in a typical day.

Aloysius realised in that moment that he never wanted to be the kind of person where fighting a duel to the death with a man-turned dragon was deemed to be a normal, everyday occurrence.

"Did you get the evidence you required, Auror Moody?" Orion's calm voice asked.

"Enough to send them all straight to the bowels of hell, Lord Black," the craggy-faced Auror with a distinct Scottish accent replied. "Thank you for cooperating with our operation."

"It was nothing," Orion said calmly. "His insults to my family and his attempt on my daughter's life were slights I could never allow to go unpunished. I am… happy that, while Abraxas seems to have transported himself off somewhere, at least his name and reputation are now to be in ruins in front of the Wizengamot itself. To have him live with that indelible stain on his name is better than a quick and merciful death."

The Auror grunted in agreement. "You may be right, Lord Black. Those who would harm their own children and then set out to murder someone else's children— well. We'll have nice dragon-proof cell waiting for him in Azkaban if we can't find a way to change him back."

"The question is, my Auror friend, is where is Abraxas Malfoy?" Orion said.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask for if he ported himself directly to his cell in Azkaban and saved us the trouble?"

Orion hrmed. "Doubtful, Auror Moody. He is Abraxas Malfoy. He lives to make simple situations entirely too complicated."

"Did you know that the Animagus Registry has you recorded as a fire-breathing chicken?"

Orion raised a brow. "I'm not even sure how they bungled that up. I'm not even a cocktrice."

"I'm betting the person who recorded your information was quaking in their boots when they wrote it down," Moody commented.

"I've been a chimaera since I was born, Auror Moody," Orion chuckled. "I don't think I was quite as intimidating as a young cub."

Moody tilted his head. "Somehow, Lord Black, I have the feeling you were just as intimidating then as you are now. However did your mum put up with you?"

Orion smiled. "My mother was a sphinx. Believe me when I tell you that you can't intimidate a mother sphinx no matter how hard you might try."

Moody let out a bark of laughter. "I've worked with your daughter, Lord Black. I see now where she gets her cunning."

Orion's smile widened. "Just wait until she starts channeling her mother."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Bellatrix tapped her wand to her chin as she waited very impatiently for the goblin to finish whatever goblin-only priority they chose to heed over attending to her business immediately. She curled her lip in open disgust. Her Lord demanded that she place this item into Lord Abraxas Malfoy's vault, but she felt it would surely be much safer in _her_ vault.

Her Lord was a genius, so she rarely questioned him, and even when she did, she knew what happened to those who defied their Lord's most sacred and direct of orders. Better to do what he required without question than show anything that could possibly be interpreted as disrespect. All of her Lord's minions were well aware that presuming to question, much less defy, his will invariably had exceedingly painful and often fatal results.

"Very well, Lady Lestrange," the goblin said at last. "I see you are on the list of approved depositors. You may follow me."

Bellatrix curled her lip. Lestrange. She was still not used to being called anything other than Bellatrix Black. Rodolphus was a nice, proper Pureblood husband to appease her father, Cygnus. At least she wasn't like her stupid sister, Andromeda, who had been spoiled and petted for so long that she thought she could simply up and marry some Muggleborn low-life who didn't even have the intelligence to offer her sister the Four Kisses before asking for her hand in marriage.

Narcissa, on the other hand, was always the one her father had found fault with. He found faults in her even when she did everything "right." She'd found love with a nice Pureblood, albeit dull, boy. He'd given her the Four Kisses. They were bound with a proper magic-blessed courtship. He had proposed. She had accepted. Everyone knew that once magic blessed a courtship, it nullified all previous relationships, including any arranged marriages. It was the only way known to get out of them.

Bellatrix had accepted her marriage to Rudolphus and then went on with her life. Andromeda defied the Old Ways and got herself married to a wizard whose lack of knowledge regarding proper courtship rules was completely appalling. Narcissa, however, did everything she was expected to do and yet was still fated to be judged harshly and punished unjustly.

Everyone in the old families knew that defying the sacred bonds and blessings of Magic was a very bad idea. Even Bellatrix knew better than to try and screw with such things. While the courtship bond was not as permanent the marriage bond, as it could be nullified when both partners agreed that it wasn't working out without any lasting repercussions, it was still a sacred old form of magic that no one with even half a brain would dare to tamper with and have any hope of surviving the experience, much less whole and unharmed.

Poor Narcissa. Bellatrix wished that her younger sister had been gifted with the ultimate blessing of Magic— the kiss that created a new Family line. Had that happened, they'd have been considered instantly married. Their magic would be judged Pure. Alas, it wasn't to be. It had been a bond, but nothing more. And since Lucius had only managed the normal courtship bond with her younger Black cousin, his bond with her could be tampered with.

Magic, however, was not taking to said tampering very well. Lord Abraxas Malfoy had contracted a strange new strain of dragon pox. Bellatrix's parents were cursed in certain unmentionable places that virtually guaranteed there would be no future siblings for her and her sisters. It served them right for trying to alter a bond of Magic. The real— the Old Magic— was often as every bit as unforgiving as the stories had described them. It was powerful beyond measure, but mess even something minor up, and you would end up wishing that all you had was a minor case of the Polkadot Hiccoughs.

Bellatrix was not a fool. She would not stick her fingers into the thorny and unforgiving mess that was Old Magic. It tended to frown on the things she'd rather use magic for. Her Dark Lord was completely unreliant on the Old Magic, so if he could do great things without it, then surely so could she.

The cart down to the Malfoy vault was long, slow and absolutely freezing. Her teeth chattered together as she was forced under the waterfall. She clutched the tightly wrapped bundle in her arms. She had no idea what it was, and it was only wrapped in leather with cords keeping it all together. Still, she knew better than to unwrap it and look. The Dark Lord would know she had, and she would be punished severely for her insolence and presumption.

The goblin stopped the card in front of the giant vault door. He worked the locks as Bellatrix waited. There were three lines of magical wards and a combination of runes to get past the door.

The door creaked loudly and slid open. A shimmering magical barrier remained without being dispelled: the ward that made it so you couldn't come out with anything other than you went in with if you weren't the recognised owner of the vault.

Bellatrix sighed and grasped the bundle tightly before walking over the threshold into the vault within.

The vault was very dimly lit. Piles of gold and various priceless objects were strewn about everywhere. Bellatrix frowned. She would have thought that Malfoy, the arrogant arse that he was, would at least been as tight about proper organisation as he was about his arse. Alas, it was clearly not so. It looked as though a great beast had been rolling around in the vault's contents. Despicable.

Bellatrix cast a Lumos spell and walked through the coins, trudging through the vault while trying not to trip over the assorted heirlooms, antiques, paintings, trinkets and baubles. She found an empty shelf towards the very rear of the vault and placed the leather-wrapped bundle upon it. At least her task for her master was finally done. She privately hoped that Lord Malfoy would do something stupid and slip up in front of the Dark Lord so she would be the one the Dark Lord chose to place his trust in instead of him. It would be so much easier for her if that were the case.

Bellatrix tripped over something, and she cursed aloud, looking down. One of those annoying little dolls lay before her feet. Open one and another lay inside and so on and so forth until you had about a hundred dolls and nothing useful to show for it. She kicked the doll out of the way, spitefully. Stupid thing. What in the seven hells did Abraxas want with bloody nesting dolls from Russia? He hadn't even gone to Durmstrang!

The moment the doll hit the wall of the vault, it shattered into pieces, separating into a hundred or so smaller doll halves. It was then she noticed that the gold pile was starting to move. Coins were rippling downwards in waves, and something was rising from the piles— something _huge_ that had been, until that very point, completely hidden under the piles of treasure.

Enormous, glowing reptilian eyes stared at her in the darkness as curling tendrils of smoke rose from its flaring nostrils.

It snarled at her, eyes narrowing into slits. Its nostrils flared again, and then it abruptly let out a loud bellow of fury.

A dragon rose from the coins, shaking itself. Blood flowed down its massive body from a slash of what looked like claw wounds in its underbelly.

Merlin! Abraxas had a _**dragon**_ in his vault?

The goblin came in to investigate after hearing the noise, and the dragon turned its head quickly.

_SNAP!_

The goblin was no more in the blink of an eye.

It threw the carcass after shaking it violently in its mouth like a dog would shake a rabbit. The goblin's corpse came zinging towards her, and she quickly dove out of the way.

The dragon growled and focused on her and began to advance. Its huge bulk seemed impossibly large to have fit under any pile of coins. It bared its teeth at her and swooped towards her.

"Stupefy!" she yelled, hitting the dragon squarely in the face.

There was a split second when Bellatrix thought it had worked, just before a huge maw full of cruel, jagged teeth closed around her with a final, decisive snap.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Gringott's Dragon Count Upped by One - Nine Fatalities**_

_Odd things were happening today at Gringott's around three in the afternoon. A goblin had taken a patron to their vault but never returned._

_Goblins, who have always had a strict time table of check-ins at the bank, raised the alarm and sent down staff to check on him. _

_Five goblins were roasted by an unexpected volley of dragonfire after examining a vault that had been left suspiciously open. Three more were downed while the team attempted to close the vault door. Once the door was closed and sealed, the Gringott's employees realised their tally of dragons guarding the vaults was all accounted for. They had gained a dragon overnight, and no one had any idea how it had gotten there._

_Gringott's called in the Aurory's own magical creature capture team, Gideon and Fabien Prewitt, to deal with the unexpected dragon, hoping to at least put the creature to work after it killed several of the bank's staff members as well as a visiting patron._

_Many view this as a stunning example of goblin practicality._

_The mystery remains, however, in just how an apparently wild dragon managed to find its way into Gringott's, whose vault was it found in, and did the vault's owner perhaps manage to snuggle the dragon into the bank?_

_The director of Gringott's Bank refuses to answer any further questions, stating simply that "we'll handle it."_

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_**Aurors Crash Gringotts Searching for Lord Abraxas Malfoy: Fugitive, Murderer, and Dragon!**_

_Upon hearing of the appearance of an unexpected dragon found rampaging in Gringott's yesterday, the Aurors were immediately on the move. Apparently, Lord Orion Black challenged Lord Abraxas Malfoy in a duel of honour after Abraxas nullified his own son's courtship bond to force him to marry another witch. Lord Black's daughter, Hermione Black, had been an unfortunate victim of a broken magical bond. The break, which had claimed the life of Narcissa Black's fiancé, was also an attempt to kill Miss Black, but she was found and saved due to a lucky bit of timing regarding when and where the break happened. _

_Lord Malfoy, who was apparently in collaboration with Lord Cygnus Black III and his wife, Druella, dosed their children with Amortentia to force them into the act of consummating the desired new relationship with the intent of breaking both parties' former courtship bonds in the only way known by wizardkind: via a pregnancy initiated between the newly-formed couple._

_This phenomena, which many believe is the sacred formation of life in the womb, is the only known way of cancelling the magical bond of courtship. It is not without a heavy toll, however, as Lords Malfoy and Black recently discovered._

_Lord Malfoy, who had succumbed to an unusually severe case of dragon pox during the duel, had somehow contracted a strain that creates an alarming transformation of the host into a dragon. He was apprehended by Aurors the other evening only to be ported out due to the use of an emergency Portkey on his person. _

_Aurors had been searching for him ever since._

_Thankfully, after learning that Gringott's had an altogether far-too-coincidental gain of one dragon, the Aurors knew where Abraxas was currently hiding out. The Aurors managed to stun the dragon after a few hours-long standoff and finally managed remove him from the bank with far less hassle than they had in restraining him._

_Thanks to a temporary shrinking potion, Abraxas is now being held in a specially-designed, reinforced cell as he awaits his trial in front of the Wizengamot. All attempts to reason with and restore him to human form have failed. His wife is currently missing, and the search is ongoing._

_Evidence, rumour has it, is that Lord Malfoy doesn't stand a chance. After seeing what he did to the unfortunate staff members of Gringott's, many are pleased to hear of his likely conviction, even without the events that resulted in his infection with a rare strain of dragon pox in the first place._

_Aurors have also found a disturbing amount of very Dark artefacts and magical items both on Lord Malfoy's estate property and in his vault, which was searched under authorisation due to the nature of his crimes as well as the discovery of the remains of the late Lady Bellatrix Lestrange, wife of Lord Rudolphus Lestrange._

_No one is willing to answer our questions as to why Lady Lestrange would have been in the Malfoy family vault to begin with, and no one seems to know with a hundred percent certainty if Abraxas Malfoy didn't kill her at another location and decide to hide her body in his vault. Given her body's reportedly mutilated condition, many seem to think that she was killed after being caught off-guard by Lord Malfoy's advanced state of transformation._

_At this point, Lord Abraxas Malfoy stands to lose his title, his property, and his vault contents, regardless of the Wizengamot's decision due his loss of the recent magical duel with Lord Orion Black. Traditionally, the winner of such duels has had the final say regarding the final disposition of the loser's assets. It is unclear what Lord Black will choose do in the light of these new developments._

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_**Lord Orion Black Restores Malfoy Family Assets to Lucius Malfoy**_

_**Lucius Celebrates by Razing Father's Estate and Building Orphanage for Squibs.**_

_In a move demonstrating great generosity, Lord Black had restored Lord Abraxas Malfoy's assets to his son, the former Lord Malfoy's only heir, making Lucius Malfoy the new of Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy. With Lady Malfoy, Lucius' mother, currently missing, Lucius and his new wife, the former Narcissa Black, are the sole remaining members of the Malfoy family._

"_Lord Black has shown us great generosity and forgiveness that shall never be forgotten," Lord Lucius Malfoy said. "I can never repay him for this, but it is my hope that the alliance between our families remains strong as in the days of old— something my father had apparently forgotten."_

_Lucius Malfoy is building a new estate on a different location, but he has donated the previous land as well as funds to build a new facility for orphaned squibs. _

"_My father detested squibs," Lucius stated quite matter-of-factly. "This is the perfect tribute to his name."_

_Thanks to this stunning chain of events, over thirty-five orphaned squibs are now living at the newly-opened facility and are being provided for as they explore their Wizarding roots and receive education and training to prepare them to successfully integrate into Muggle society. It is Lucius Malfoy's sincere hope that these children will be able to thrive and gain the knowledge and skills required to one day navigate both the magical and Muggle worlds with ease._

_I believe we can say, with considerable confidence, that if anything remains of Abraxas Malfoy's human mind, it is probably screaming in outrage._

* * *

A/N: Fear not. Hermione will be back in the next chapter, and her side of the events shall come in all its (possible burning) glory.


	35. One Phoenix Two Phoenix

**A/N:** Wow. I get this review that they feel sorry for Hermione because Snape doesn't wash his underwear… all I can say is, wtf? I understand you love your HarryxDaphne, but you have your things, and I have mine. Mine definitely does not focus on Snape's underwear. o.o

**Beta Love:** the Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back **

**Chapter 35**

**One Phoenix Two Phoenix Red Phoenix Blue Phoenix**

_Sunday, March 16th, 1975, Waxing crescent 12% _

"Your brother has been very worried about you, Hermione," Argus said, pouring a cup of tea next to the phoenix's half-down half-feathered head.

Mrs Norris meowed and head butted against the phoenix, flopping down next to her.

Hermione chirped wearily.

"Well, at least you don't have to grow up all over again," Argus noted. "I can't imagine having to relieve my entire childhood all over again."

Hermione's head crest rose in curiosity.

"It was very boring, Hermione," Argus confessed. "Too many Muggle exams."

The female phoenix chirped and immersed her head in the teacup, burbling until all of the liquid disappeared.

Argus made a strange face. "Not exactly how my mum taught me how to drink tea, but I suppose you have an odd sort of learning about you."

Hermione mentally sighed, thunking her head against the desk wearily.

Argus stroked her head crest gently, causing her to chirp softly. "There, now, young miss. You'll be right as rain soon enough. You can live in spite of what that horrible man did to you, and that can be a good insult to his memory.

Hermione gave a soft warble and bonked her head against Argus' hand when he stopped rubbing her head.

Argus chuckled as he attempted to pet both Mrs Norris and Hermione's head at the same time. "I've been taking those drops you gave me. Every morning. I'm not sure what they do, but the Headmaster seems baffled with me. I suppose that is what you wanted, aye?"

Hermione warbled, gently taking hold of Argus' finger and worrying at it with her beak.

A warm expression crossed Argus' face and he scooped up the young phoenix and Mrs Norris and carried them both out onto the grounds. The warmth of spring was finally starting to creep back in to chase away the remnants of another cold Scottish winter, and Argus was happy to be able to enjoy walks in the outside air again.

Mrs Norris jumped down from his arms and meowed, her tail waving like a flag as she tore off after a cheeky little ground squirrel with all due haste.

Hermione perked up a bit as the springtime warmth seemed to seep into her feathers. She warbled more enthusiastically, sending a small thrum of happiness through Argus' heart.

Mrs Norris trotted back to Argus with a rolling meow. Hermione chirped at her. The cat dashed off in invitation, begging the phoenix to chase, which Hermione obliged with a soft chirp. They chased each other into the foliage. Sometimes the phoenix would land on the cat. Sometimes the cat would pounce the phoenix, the both of them tumbling in the undergrowth with sounds of mock battle.

Argus smiled. Mrs Norris was always great at drawing the smile out of anyone who would let her. All she really needed was a small chance to shine, and shine she did. The kitten had grown into a well-adjusted young cat, and many times the trio of Animagi said she was trying to be another Professor McGonagall—always watching and constantly underfoot. Very little missed her watchful eye, and she would trot back to Argus and meow as if she was trying to tell him the news. Sometimes she would bite his ankle and walk off, clearly challenging him to come look at something she felt was important. She'd found kids hiding in alcoves, empty classrooms and the suits of armor, kids trapped _inside _the armor suits thanks to the ever-troublesome Peeves, as well as hormonal teenage snoggers lurking in Hogwarts' multitude of broom closets.

Sometimes she would lead him right past a certain statue of a one-eyed witch, and a cluster of hiding students who were desperately trying to sneak out to or back from Hogsmeade. She knew they were there, and so did Argus, but they had a game to see how close they could get to their hiding place and if they could avoid they giving themselves away. If they didn't, he would let things slide, allowing them think that they were so very clever. If they failed at stealth, however, he would catch them and rain down on them like they were dreadful little children with no regard whatsoever for the rules. He always let them get past the statue and their "super secret passage" before he pounced on them. The game would be over far too quickly if he let them know he knew all about their little tunnel escape routes.

He was fairly certain that Mrs Norris thoroughly enjoyed such games, just as she enjoyed tracking various random rodents across the green. She always held her tail up high when she was playing. She held it down and level when she was serious, and he always knew what kind of student she was tracking by the lay of her tail. The game was usually serious after curfew, as though she knew that the rules always changed at night.

Much to his relief, however, the children rarely treated him poorly. They seemed to realise that when they were caught, they had failed at something and had only themselves to blame. Many things had changed since the team of apprentices had made a habit of visiting him both after hours and in public view of everyone. They would chat with him good naturedly, love on Mrs Norris, and demonstrate their respect to him at all times. The others seemed to learn by their example, figuring that if those such as Snape, Lupin, and Black always treated him well, then he must be someone worth respecting. Later, he began to realise that the children respected him because of his own merit, and that was the warmest feeling of all.

Regulus Black had begun introducing a number of people to him as each school year started, and no one seemed to be able to deny Regulus with his boyish charm and easy way with people. If Regulus Black approved of you, everyone decided they liked you too. It was the most acceptance that Argus had ever felt in his entire life being a squib— the sort of cast-off member of Wizarding society who was usually either hated,, scoffed at or pitied.

Nowadays, Argus often enjoyed playing wizard chess with a few students on the outdoor tables during the warmer months. He would often watch the children playing with the giant squid, making sure they were always safe. Even though they were magical, a surprising amount of them didn't know how to swim very well. Argus, however, was an excellent swimmer, and he ended up rescuing a number of enthusiastically-thrown children from the waters of the Black Lake.

Silvanus Kettleburn would often drag his new apprentice, a half-giant named Rubeus Hagrid, everywhere he went. His attempt to teach the half-giant basic safety precautions (and he always wove his half-bitten fingers and pointed out his scars as proof) and consideration for the well-being of the students, that despite the fact that magical animals were, indeed, very exciting and fascinating creatures, they were also potentially quite dangerous. Even to a man who had long taught a healthy respect for such animals, they were still, very often, wild and unpredictable. Argus greatly admired the man for attempting to stress safety procedures, but he had a sinking suspicion that his teachings were going in one ear and out the other of one Rubeus Hagrid.

Silvanus had caught the half-giant trying to introduce a female acromantula into the Dark Forest to become a mate for "his old friend, Aragog," and Silvanus had come completely unglued, ranting at considerable length about the habitat of native species, invasive species, particularly dangerous species, and things you should never, ever turn loose in a forest next to a school full of children. The half-giant has looked completely confused and taken aback by the sharp dressing down. Apprentice or no, Silvanus certainly had his work cut out for him.

Argus suddenly became aware of a cat-bolo wrapped snugly around his legs.

"Mrrrrrow!"

Argus looked down."Hello, Treacle," he chuckled. "Looking for Miss Hermione, or is this just a social call?"

The sleek familiar of Regulus Black placed her paws on his knee and begged shamelessly to be picked up and carried.

"Spoiled thing," he huffed, picking up the cat.

"Mrrrow!" Treacle commented, head-bumping into his jaw with a solid thunk.

Suddenly, a certain very familiar wolf came bounding by carrying something in his jaws. Shortly after, a slender, black-haired Slytherin boy arrived and resumed chasing after him.

"Tuft! Argh!" Regulus panted. "Come back here with my books, you shaggy menace!"

The wolf was already a long way ahead, his tufted tail up high as he disappeared into the brush.

The ruffled Slytherin ran after him, ignoring Argus completely.

"Hrm, I suppose you'll be having dinner with me tonight, eh, Treacle?"

"Mrrrow!" the cat agreed, placing an affectionate paw on the side of his nose.

Hermione returned, carrying Mrs Norris securely in her talons. The cat was hanging limply like a kitten being carried around by its mum. Argus shook his head as he soon had a cat on each shoulder and a phoenix perched on his head. Hermione clunked her head against his forehead and chirped.

Argus smiled. Hermione was starting to feel better. That was all he really needed to know.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Lord Cygnus and Lady Druella Black Arrested by Muggle Police**_

_**Aurors Intervene and Apprehend the Couple for Crimes Against **_

_**Magic**_

_The infamous couple, who used Amortentia to force their own child into breaking her courtship bond to another man, murdered their daughter's fiancé, and attempted the murder of noted Apprentice Hermione Black by illegally breaking her courtship bond with Lord Lucius Malfoy, have finally been apprehended at last. _

_The pair, who have been missing since the arrest and trial of the former Lord Abraxas Malfoy, were thought to be on the run from the Aurors; however, it seems that they were not running after all. Lady Black was apparently leaving quite a trail of offenses in her wake, ranging from public indecency to frank prostitution in what is known as London's "red light district" or, in other words, the Muggle answer to Knockturn Alley. Her husband, in his attempt to track his errant wife down, ended up confronting her in a fracas that attracted the attention of Muggle police._

_Lord Black, who has added blatant use of magic in front of Muggles to his impressive list of crimes, apparently became embroiled in a public altercation with law enforcement officers. Teams of Obliviators were dispatched to the scene of the battle as well as the local precinct on the day our Aurors picked up Lord and Lady Black and escorted them to a proper Ministry holding cell while awaiting their trial in front of the Wizengamot._

_Lord Orion Black, who had been supported by the majority of Blacks as the reigning Head of the Family after Cygnus' disgrace, officially cut ties with his brother-in-law and sister-in-law, magically obliterating both Cygnus and Druella from the ranks of the Black Family. Invoking the Old Magics, he called down Old Magic itself to judge them. The end result was the permanent and official severance of Cygnus and Druella from the Black Family Line. They are, by law and magic, Blacks no more. Their titles and their name are now lost to them._

_All of their previous assets, as Blacks, have been sold off and split amongst the remaining children: Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy. Both Andromeda and Narcissa refused to acknowledge their previous parents even existed, but after hearing what crimes the ex-Lord and Lady Black were found guilty of, many of us here at_ the Daily Prophet _have no difficulty understanding why._

_Cygnus and Druella, officially booked and charged as Mr and Mrs Cygnus and Druella No-Name, are scheduled to receive a special trial on Saturday, a day that is not normally utilized for business by the Wizengamot. Due to the severity of the crimes the couple have been charged with, however, an extraordinary meeting of the Wizengamot was called for. Mr and Mrs No-Name are facing crimes so severe that even if a single charge receives a verdict of guilty, the pair will be facing upwards of fifty years in Azkaban._

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

_Dear Druella,_

_I have brought your petition for acceptance back into the bosom of the Rosier family to my Lord Father, but, unfortunately, he has decided that with the amount of disgrace associated with you, even without a conviction at this time, your reputation is too deeply and thoroughly stained for you to be permitted to resume your former place in our most noble and honourable family._

_Many of our family members have voiced grave concerns that their children will not be safe around you, and the sanctity of the bond between parent and child, specifically a mother to her child, is the most sacred bond short of Magic's Blessing itself. That you would even consider such a heinous act— it is beyond all human comprehension. _

_My Lady Mother expresses great shame that anyone borne of her blood could be capable of such a shameful slight to Magic itself. Had you come to the Rosiers the moment such odious plans had been mentioned, the circumstances would have permitted us to annul the marriage due to a serious threat to your life and the sanctity of Magic. Foolishly, however, you did no such thing._

_You, Druella, willingly participated in the deliberate sabotage of your own daughter's courtship bond. You knew precisely what that act would entail. You knew that it would most likely result in the death of both former partners. That is such a grievous and despicable crime that we cannot permit ourselves to allow you welcome back into the bosom of our family._

_You will remain, now and forevermore, disowned from the Rosier family. We are not permitted to speak of or to you. That I have written you this letter is merely a last courtesy and only in sad remembrance of once sharing a childhood together. _

_I have enclosed your old locket, which you may sell to pay for your legal fees. There is nothing else I am permitted or that I would even wish to do for you. You have dug your grave, Druella. Now, you must lie in it._

_Richard Rosier_

_(his seal, the serpent and the wand)_

_(Seal of the House of Rosier)_

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

Walburga pulled her travelling cloak around her shoulders as she walked. People scattered around her, creating an unimpeded path for her without even realising it. Unlike on a typical day in public, she wore only drab colours, the bare minimum of jewelry, and walked quietly with a subdued stride. She did not carry herself with her typical pride, nor did she wish to be seen as anything more than one face in the sea.

Unlike most Wizarding folk, Walburga knew about fashion. She knew Muggle fashion well enough to choose things that tread delicately on the fine line between Wizarding and Muggle. None of her things were ever truly Muggle, but they passed well enough in a pinch. They were good for times like this, when she was making her way through the bustling Muggle shopping areas to get to the places that she wished to go.

She stopped at a small stand outside a cozy corner market. Her eyes scanned the tempting piles of fresh fruit. Her eyes flicked upward to the shopkeeper, and he nodded respectfully. The owner was a squib, but his family had always been in the produce business. They had always sent their very best to the House of Black for years untold. There was a small room in the back that house-elves could safely port in to pick up baskets of fresh produce and Wizarding folk could Apparate in to do their shopping. Despite being a squib, the proprietor's family was well-known, even though there was quite a mix of Muggle and Magical members thanks to a long and proud history of farming.

Unlike in some countries, farming had proved to be a very lucrative business for his family. His daughter and son would both be attending Hogwarts for the first time come August, and he was already as proud as a father could be. His wife, a gentle witch named Aleena, was a renowned healer who chose to specialise in veterinary care for magical creatures commonly kept as working livestock on Wizarding farms.

Walburga picked out a number of the fruits she had been carefully appraising, gathered them up in a basket, and walked up to the indoor counter.

"Lady Black," he greeted with a slight bow. "Good to see you. Find everything you need?"

"Good afternoon, Mr Appleby," she replied with a polite smile. "Indeed, I have."

He took the gathered produce and set them in a side basket. "Do you wish me to leave it here for Kreacher to pick up?"

"Actually, no," Walburga said with a tilt of her head. "Could you have this basket sent to the estate of Master Barberry? My daughter is staying there."

Appleby smiled and nodded. "Shame what happened to her, my old friend. Is she recovering?"

Walburga let out a soft sigh. "She is alive, and that in itself is a miracle. The healing—" she trailed off. "I worry for her. Her bond with Lord Malfoy was quite strong. She is around those who truly care for her. That is all that matters, now."

Appleby nodded. "I will add some gooseberries from my wife's secret stash," he said. "She always loved them whenever she came by to visit."

Walburga smiled. "She had always had such a weakness for gooseberries. She guards the bushes in our garden like a dragon on a hoard of gold."

Appleby laughed. "I will take the blame, Lady Black, for introducing her to them as a young chick. I remember you bringing her, that little fuzz covered ball with grey, sparkling eyes and bright purple feet. She once tried to eat my favorite tie."

"To be fair, Mr Appleby," Walburga chuckled. "It did have blueberries on it."

The man grinned widely. Then his face became sombre. "She looked at me and all I saw was pure adoration. For that moment, I felt like a powerful man with powerful magic."

Walburga looked thoughtful. "To my daughter, Mr Appleby, we are all capable of great and wondrous things. It has always been so. But you have had magic all along. You can still the cries of a baby phoenix with a gooseberry and a smile. You can juggle two lively children who like to make your grapes dance a jig in front of Muggles and make it seem like the most natural thing in the world. There are many types of magic in this world, old friend. That you were not born with one does not make you incapable of certain others."

Appleby smiled. "You always know what to say. I see now, where Regulus gets his gilded tongue."

Walburga snorted. "That boy could charm the honey from a hive of bees. And they would gladly fly it to him in golden trails. That is not a gift from me."

Appleby tilted his head back and laughed. "No parent ever sees very much of what they give their children."

"Oh?" she replied. "Whatever did you give to your children, Mr Appleby?"

"Mad dancing skills," he said with a wink.

Walburga let out a genuine laugh. "Touché."

"I will have Mudflap deliver the fruit to Barberry's estate," Appleby said with a smile.

Walburga raised a brow at the name.

"The first day my children picked out our family owl, my two darling pride and joys gave the poor owl a mud bath to make him 'pretty'," he explained. "Imagine a mud-covered owl, flapping wildly around the flat, bumping into things, knocking over the tea service, and then having the mud dry on him in a very peculiar position, leaving the poor bird rather resembling a quaffle from a pickup Quidditch game after a sudden rainstorm."

Walburga closed her eyes and then opened them. "I suppose I should be very thankful that all that happened with my children was my daughter somehow managing to turn her twin into a dog before anchoring the spell to a leyline so he ended up being stuck as a dog for months... until she decided he could finally play proper games with her without eating the game pieces."

Appleby spluttered. "I'm sure that made things much better when he stopped eating the game pieces."

Walburga shook her head. "No. Becoming human again didn't help the matter in the slightest. Sirius still eats the game pieces to this day."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hey, sis!"

"Hn?"

"Watch!"

Hermione looked up curiously from the book she was reading. Regulus popped large, round, furry ears out of his head. He wiggled them at her and grinned.

Hermione shook her head, trying to stifle a smile, but it didn't quite work. So she grinned back at him. "What if you end up a big, fluffy teddy bear, Regulus? You'll end up being someone's cuddly stuffed bear, forever doomed to being drooled on at night and anxiously snuggled to death during exam week."

Regulus spluttered and flopped down next Hermione. Severus, who was sitting next to her, grunted as Regulus wiggled in between them as he always did, oblivious to any ridiculous notion of personal space whenever he was around them.

"Ugh," he moaned. "There is a game on Saturday, and I'd rather just finish my homework and lie in all weekend."

Hermione snorted. "You, Regulus? You haven't had a good lie in all the years I've known you, little brother. You wake up at dawn like a cockerel, and then you run around until you slam into something hard enough to knock you out."

Regulus pouted. "That's not true."

"Are you sure your Animagus form is a bear?" Severus added. "Maybe you are just an ornamental Rosecomb chicken. All strut with no purpose but to look pretty."

Regulus pouted again. "Severus!"

The pale wizard looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. "Hn?"

Regulus gave him his best puppy-dog eyes.

Severus shook his head. "That doesn't work on me anymore, Regulus. I have taken the step of inoculating myself with a total immunity to your charms."

Regulus sighed. "So not fair."

Remus, who had been quiet until then, lifted his head from his copy of 1001 Uses for Labradorite. "Why don't you go pester Sirius and James. They are skulking around in the woods thinking themselves such stealthy and clever sods."

Regulus' face transformed into a huge, wicked grin as he pushed himself off the ground and promptly disappeared into the woods.

Severus licked one finger and turned the page in his book. "Ten minutes," he predicted, sounding utterly bored.

"Seven," Remus replied with a yawn.

Hermione sniffed, flipping the page in her own book. "Two."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"We've been at this for bloody months, James," Sirius moaned.

"More really, but that that's not the point," James replied.

"Just what _is_ the point?" Sirius asked, rolling his eyes. "I've totally forgotten after all the mandrake leaves I've swallowed."

"We can't let those three have all the fun!" James answered, as if it was all perfectly obvious. "Just because Wormtail vanished doesn't mean it won't be useful enough being able to turn into something nice and stealthy."

"We haven't even figured out what we're going to be," Sirius complained. "I refuse to believe the vision that I'm going to be a pocket gopher."

"That was too much oregano on your lasagna, mate," James reasoned. "I'm sure your form will be much cooler than that."

"Any luck figuring out what you're going to be?" Sirius asked.

"I think I'm going to be a lion," James said. "I saw brown fur."

"A beaver has brown fur, mate."

James huffed. "I was higher off the ground."

"A beaver in a tree."

James smacked Sirius upside the head. "Get serious."

Sirius grinned at him, wiggling his eyebrows.

James rolled his eyes. "I think Lily would be impressed by a lion."

Sirius slid his eyes over to look at James. "You really have it bad, don't you? Too bad she thinks you're a toe-rag. Rotten luck, that."

James slumped. "I know! I know! it's not my fault that I tried to send her a romantic singing flower and it chewed off her eyebrows."

"Mate, it was your fault!" Sirius blurted. "_You_ charmed it!"

"Shut it," James bemoaned, his head in his hands.

"That and you lost our map to Argus because he caught you sneaking around trying to place that dungbomb for Longbottom," Sirius growled at him.

"I know, I know!" James smacked himself with his palm. "If I can manage this shift into a lion, I can sneak into Argus' office and steal it back."

"You're completely mental if you think a lion is going to go around unnoticed anywhere in Hogwarts," Sirius blurted out in sheer disbelief.

"Better a lion than an itty-bitty pocket gopher!" James challenged.

Sirius slugged James on the arm. "Be quiet, you arse."

"He-haw," Sirius answered.

"Ugh, come on, we need to settle down and focus," James said sitting down with his legs crossed.

"It took Remus and Severus less than a year," Sirius moaned aloud.

"We're almost there, Sirius," James said, opening one eye to stare at him. "Come on, mate, this time could be it."

Sirius sighed and closed his eyes.

They hadn't been meditating for longer than a minute when they heard rustling and the snapping of twigs in the forest.

"That's getting closer," Sirius said warily.

"It's probably just the centaur out patrolling," James reasoned.

"Centaur don't like us being out here, mate," Sirius reminded James.

"Look if we finish this, we'll be nice stealthy forest animals and blend right in," James said. "Now, just shut it and meditate!"

Sirius closed his eyes again and sighed.

Rustle. Rustle. Groan. Snap.

Sirius' eyes flew open. "Oh, come on, that's not a centaur!" he protested.

Thoroughly peeved, James opened his eyes and glared. "You want to know why we can't seem to transform ourselves? This is why we can't transform ourselves. You keep spooking whenever a bunny rabbit farts or a bloody bear is taking a shit in the woods, mate. Can't you just tune it out and focus?"

Sirius huffed and closed his eyes again.

Time seemed to slow to an aching crawl. Sirius tried to focus on his own nervous breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

His breathing sounded heavy in his ears. He could smell the damp of the earth and some sort of unpleasant, musky odour. As he breathed, he felt an odd sort of hot breeze on his face

As he breathed deeper, he realised he was hearing another type of heavy, snuffling breathing.

"Mate, stop breathing so hard, you're distracting."

"Psh, you're the one distracting me."

Sirius didn't even bother opening his eyes. Jerk.

In. Out. In. Out. Heavy, heavy breathing.

"James, stop being a prat," Sirius complained.

When the heavy breathing finally got to be too much, Sirius opened his eyes and turned his head to glare at James, but it wasn't James staring him right back in the face.

A huge, grizzled-looking, black-furred bear stared him in the face, foamy spittle dripping from a mouth filled with very large and pointy canines.

"Oh fuck me," Sirius blurted.

"Mate, would you just _**please**_ shut the bloody he—" James said, opening his eyes to glare at Sirius.

Pure, unadulterated terror gripped each of the Gryffindor boys as they immediately lost all semblance of bladder control.

A large rack of moose antlers sprouted out of James' skull, weighing him down. Sirius let out an echoing, terrified howl as pointed canine ears sprouted out of his hair and a tail burst from his arse.

They screamed as the massive bear rose up on its rear legs and bellowed, the creature's hot, moist breath heating up the very air before them.

Both boys slammed into each other in their haste to get up. Sirius got his robes tangled up in James' antlers, and James stepped on Sirius' long tail. They pushed themselves off each other and quickly scrambled down the path they had taken into the forest, slamming into tree trunks, brush and foliage as they ran for it as fast as they could.

The forest echoed with the sounds of their shrill screams. The pair forgot any pretense of dignity as well as the fact that they both had their wands stashed inside their robes. They ran as though the very fires of hell were racing hot on their heels and the Furies were not far behind.

James and Sirius burst out of the tree line, screaming like banshees, tearing up the path as they showed absolutely no sign of stopping. Passersby stopped and stared as the antlered boy and the boy sporting a set of dog ears and a tail shrieked their hysterical way back to the safety of Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, one mellow-looking silver tabby cat sat on the stone fence just outside the forest. She yawned and stretched, having watched the entire debacle with keen interest. A Bateleur eagle and a brownish-black phoenix perched in the high tree on the border of the forest, laughing their raucous bird-calls as their heads swung high and low.

A large, grizzled, black bear shambled out to the edge of the stone fence and sat down, laying his great head on the top of the stone. Minerva reached out her paw and sternly bopped the bear over the nose, causing the bear to wince slightly. He huffed, his hot breath ruffling the tabby's soft fur.

Tuft came trotting out of the forest and plopped his rear down next to the bear, encircling the bear's barrel-like body with his front legs in a semi-hug. He lay his head over the bear's with his tongue lolling merrily.

Minerva reached out with one paw and sternly bopped him on the nose too.

Tuft whined softly, tail wagging in appeasement.

The silver tabby turned her head away, snubbing them as only a cat could.

Somewhere in Hogwarts, two terrified boys were still running.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_My dear son,_

_Congratulations on obtaining your Animagus form and registering it properly with the Animagus Registry. I am very proud that you have studied well under your sister, Severus, and Remus. They learned from those I believe to be exemplary teachers of the subject, and it is only fitting that you sought instruction from those who found success under them._

_According to the registry, you are classified as "bear, huge" which seems to point to a distinct lack of species identification within the registry. Polar bears are huge, and yet what are you is definitely not of the polar regions. They did, at least, correctly list you as being black in colour, which will at least keep you from being mixed up with all those purple bears out there, but the least they could do is figure out that you are a black-furred grizzly bear and not an actual black bear. Ah, well, at least they didn't mislabel you as a dolphin._

_I have heard, my son, that you have exercised your pranking skills on your brother in the most memorable of ways. I, myself, would dearly love to see the memory of it, and I'm sure your mother would agree. Perhaps we can have a share night during the Christmas holidays to make it even more special for all._

_As I have heard from your sister, Sirius and his friend didn't leave the dormitories for a solid week, relying on the kindness of the house-elves to bring them regular baskets of food. They holed up, barricading the very doors with their beds and chests. What a sight that must have been. I am reminded of your childhood, when your brother tried to keep me out of his room by stacking all of the things in front of the door to keep it from opening only to realise the door opened outward instead of in, and I walked right in without difficulty. _

_I do hope he managed to learn his lesson from that unfortunate experience and did not repeat that particular embarrassment at Hogwarts._

_Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey have sent word that Mr Potter had to have his antlers sawed off so he could get back through the doorway after locking himself away. Let his situation with growing large antlers that continue grow daily provide an ongoing lesson to him about the folly of attempting to teach oneself how to become an Animagus without seeking the aid of someone who has already successfully become one._

_Your brother, however, does not have anything overly hampering about his current condition, and they believe they can counter the effects without having to send him off to the Animagus reversal specialists at St Mungo's. Your mother is rolling her eyes as I write this. She's convinced that it's always Sirius who just has to find a way to muck up things that should not ever become mucked up._

_I hear you have a Quidditch game coming up soon. I'm sure you'll do your best as you always do. Just please do not wind up being de-broomed. I do not wish to hear about the world's first unsuccessful flying grizzly bear. I am sure you do not wish to find that as your moniker for life, either._

_Your mother has enclosed for you a large supply of celebratory biscuits. Try to remember to share. We do not want to see a repeat of the incident of a few years ago. Yes, I still remember that._

_(Ink smear going across parchment)_

_Denebola sends his love and demands to be fed like the royal feline highness he proclaims himself to be._

_Your loving father,_

_Orion_

_(his seal, the Belt of Orion)_

_(seal of the House of Black)_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Heh. Heh. Heh. Go Regulus.


	36. 1975 Bittersweet

**A/N:** This chapter was a bit… emotional. Just saying.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 36: Bittersweet**

_Monday, May 14th, 1975, Waxing crescent, 8%_

Lucius Malfoy paused as his hand alighted on the handle of the door, a faint tremble in his arm. Hot shame filled him, a feeling unlike anything his father had ever managed to instill in him— shame and overwhelming regret.

Lucius Malfoy was now a married man, both by magic and by law— married to the wrong witch by his own carnal, potion-induced lust, something he had not asked for and he could not control. That, however, did not matter. He had gotten Narcissa Black pregnant, and that had forever sealed the bond between him and a witch he had never favoured and broken the bond between himself and the witch he believed to be the love of his life.

That he and Narcissa had been slowly becoming closer following the incarceration of his father was of little comfort. That they had managed to scrounge up a kind of gentle tenderness between them also didn't matter. His heart still belonged to Hermione Black, and his very soul lamented the loss of her gentle presence in his mind, the soft brush of her fingers against his skin as they walked together side-by-side— the way it was supposed to be. The way it was MEANT to be.

Lucius closed his eyes. The looks Hermione's loyal chevaliers had given him as he walked into Master Barberry's estate had said it all. Trust had to be earned, and despite the fact that Lucius had not chosen to hurt Hermione of his own free will, in all his potion-induced passion he had truly _wanted_ Narcissa Black, and she had wanted him. He had betrayed Hermione, and the consummation of his lust for another witch had nearly killed her. It _had_ killed a part of her, and he had obliviously thrown himself into insuring that the Malfoy line would continue on with an heir even as Hermione lay dying— fearful and betrayed— by the very magic that should have kept them together forever.

Slowly, Lucius stepped across the threshold of the room.

Hermione stood silhouetted in the brightness of the sunlight-filled window, her raven-black tresses wild and unkempt. She turned to face him, and he saw how very young her face looked. A part of her was still catching up to where she had been before. Her eyes, however, a grey so light they were almost crystalline, betrayed her true age.

"Lucius," she whispered, and Lucius Malfoy came undone, falling to his knees as he prostrated himself before her.

"Hermione," he choked.

She gave him a look that unmade him all over again. It was filled with all the things he knew he didn't deserve.

"I'm so sorry," he rasped.

Hermione turned her head away, her face transforming from warmth to a cold, frozen mask of detachment. It was a mask that Lucius knew all too well.

"I did not think you would come," she said after a while. "Today of all days."

"I had to," Lucius said, wincing. "Today was the day we were to… announce our betrothal."

Hermione stared out the window. "It wasn't meant to be," she stated painfully.

Lucius hung his head. "It was meant to be, dammit," he cursed, causing Hermione's eyes to regard him with clear surprise. "I had never felt something so right in my life! Even now, I feel… lonely, so incomplete without you." He clenched his hands and slammed them flat on the floor.

"When I wake up in the morning, I want it to be _you_ beside me," he groaned like a wounded animal. "I want your face to be the one that greets me first thing in the morning!" He pulled at his hair, clawing at his scalp. "It was supposed to be _you_, Hermione!"

Lucius' face was tortured and haggard. For the first time in all the years she had known him, his face wore a shadow of fine stubble. "Hermione," he whispered. "It has always been you."

Hermione looked into his face. She walked towards him, kneeling to place her hands on his, cupping them gently between hers. Her eyes and expression were sad and resigned. "I do not blame you, Lucius. What your father did to you was a heinous act of unspeakable cruelty. What my own family did— I had no idea there was so much hatred within my own blood. No… perhaps I knew all along. I just thought it would not affect me personally."

Hermione stared upward. "It simply wasn't meant to be, Lucius," she repeated. "Had it been, the very moment that we kissed, the Magic would have forged a Pure line from our union. We would have been bound, instantly, irrevocably."

She turned to him, staring into his eyes. "We were compatible. I believe we could have had a wonderful life together, but Magic did not choose that type of bond for us. If it had, your father, my uncle and his wife would never have been able to successfully bring their plot to fruition. No amount of Amortentia could have forced you to break the bond between us."

Lucius moaned, his arms shot out and pulled her to him with a cry of pure despair. He wrapped them around her with a desperate, wracking sob, burying his face into her wild, unkempt hair.

Hermione's eyes squeezed shut, her hand trembling as she combed his hair in a habitual motion. "I will always love you, Lucius, but what we had can never be again. Our plans must fade into the land of dreams. You are now married, and now I must respect the bond you have with your new wife."

"_Damn_ all magic," Lucius sobbed, "if it takes you from me."

Hermione closed her eyes, two trails of hot tears sliding down her face and into his white-blond hair. She jolted, quickly patting her robes as she fumbled her hands over them. Hermione then pulled out a vial and slid it against her face, capturing the precious tears. She shook, her body trembling as the tears continued to form, her sobs wracking her slight body with silent torment.

By the time she slumped over, the vial was full of glistening tears. Silently, she felt around for a stopper in her robes and placed it in the vial. She placed it in Lucius' hands.

"Take these to Master Demeter in Aberdeen," she whispered. "Tell her that I sent you. She will brew for you an elixir that you should have Narcissa drink one sip of every day from the moment you wish to conceive to the day your child is born. It is my last gift to you, my love. A wish for a happy future and an heir when you are prepared to have one. When you are both ready…" she trailed off.

Lucius looked at her, shaking his head in adamant denial.

Hermione placed her fingers to his lips. "When you are finally ready, Lucius. One day, you may look into the eyes of your wife and realise you do truly care for her… and she for you."

She pressed her lips to his forehead. "I forgive you, Lucius. Now, please, forgive _yourself_."

Hermione allowed the distraught Lucius to weep harshly into her robes. "We must have faith in Magic, my love. For without Magic, we are but a galleon at sea with no wind to carry her."

Lucius clutched at her robes. "Just one night, Hermione. Let me hold you to me as I once did. Then, tomorrow, I will face the judgement for my actions and take responsibility for them."

Hermione crumpled against him as he pulled her closely, wrapping his arms around her tightly as his sobs shook him to the core.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Lily, will you stop mooning over Potter?"

Lily flushed. "I am not mooning over Ja— Potter."

"So it's James, now, is it?" Amanda cooed.

Lily flushed even harder. "Oh, do shut it," she huffed.

Amanda wiggled her eyebrows saucily at Lily.

Lily groaned.

"I can't wait to tell Marlene."

"You will do no such thing!"

Amanda pouted, her lower lip protruding. "Come on, Lils. I _know_ you've been interested in him ever since the boy grew a pair."

Lily glared fiercely at her friend.

Amanda used her fingers to pantomime antlers and grinned. "Who knew you were so attracted to the animalistic types?" she ribbed with a purring meow.

Lily slammed her forehead hard against her Herbology book.

"Seems you've changed your tune since first year, Lils," Amanda said, perching her head on her hands. "Just last year you were saying that anyone who wanted to turn themselves into an animal was some kind of freak."

Lily flushed. "I did not. I said… I said that it was unnerving."

Amanda shook her head. "It's okay to be wrong, you know."

"You don't get good marks being wrong!" Lily snapped.

Amanda drummed her fingers against her cheek. "There were a lot of misconceptions about Animagi before the Auror Animagi teams were made public. That entire rescue operation in Hogsmeade opened a lot of eyes. There is no shame in realising that you didn't know something, Lily."

"I know!" Lily huffed.

"What's really bothering you?"

Lily turned her head away. "They should have told me."

Amanda let out her breath slowly. "So you could have rejected them for being freaks?"

Lily scowled. "No! I wouldn't ha—"

"Lily, I love you. You know that," Amanda said, "but maybe the reason they didn't tell you is because they knew you weren't ready to know about it."

"I would have accepted them!" Lily insisted.

"After a few months or maybe a year when you finally realised you missed having them around, maybe," Amanda said sadly.

"That's not fair," Lily pouted.

"Lil, it's okay to have been wrong," Amanda repeated. "Just don't be mad at them for knowing perfectly well how you'd react. That's a part of friendship too."

Lily scowled.

Amanda nudged her with her elbow. "Now, tell me all about _James_."

Lily flushed all over again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione yawned beakily as she woke next to Fawkes. Both his neck and Zabulon's were curved around her feathered back in sleep. While the chick was mostly grown, it seemed that the bond between phoenix family members remained very strong.

Hermione had to smile at that. Phoenixes were the ultimate adopters. Whatever phenomena had formed their eggs in the slipstreams, male phoenixes were driven to collect them. Females, on the other hand, had an irrepressible desire to hatch the eggs— so much so that even with her human mind, she felt she could not deny Fawkes his chicks.

Her resurrection had put a slight crimp in her ability to maintain a human form, and that had been a first for her. Master Barberry had introduced her to a magizoologist named Master Lillian Dupont, and she had examined her thoroughly to make sure there was nothing truly amiss. Of all the people in the world, she remained the only person who had chosen to study magical birds as her speciality, most people having found it too much work to track and gain the trust of creatures that literally flew away the moment they spotted you on a _good_ day.

Master Dupont, however, had an ace up her sleeve. She was an even rarer creature, a Caladrius Animagus— the ancient snow-white Roman healing bird that was renowned for being able to take sickness into itself and fly off with it, neutralising it. No magical bird ever denied her a perch near them, and she was allowed a unique insider look into the private lives of the magical birds she encountered.

"_I believe it is much like when I take sickness into myself and make it disperse, Dupont had said with a nod, stroking Hermione's feathers and down soothingly. "It takes a lot out of you to use your most special power. That's not to say you couldn't do it again soon after in a pinch, but it's very draining. She'll be as right as rain after a few months, when her physical age catches up."_

Hermione had been relieved. The last thing she had wanted to go through was becoming a toddler again and then trying to teach a class. While she was recovering her strength and regrowing, Severus and Remus had covered all of her duties that required a physical appearance, and Hermione put herself to work doing what she could intellectually, such as plotting how to liberate the rest of Fawkes' eggs. There was also the challenging matter of finding the eggs _first_ before any liberation could happen.

She had a growing hypothesis that the ward Dumbledore had placed on the wall was based on touch, so as long as she or Fawkes didn't attempt to open any door that was formed on the surface of the wall of the seventh floor corridor, they could then pass through any door that was opened by another person completely unmolested. That would involve teamwork. Fortunately, Hermione and Fawkes had plenty of friends with willing hands to assist them..

Dumbledore had shown no more than passing interest in Animagi, and that did seem to carry over from what Hermione remembered of him in her former time. She was unsure whether he knew of their existence and had judged the information to be inconsequential, or if the wizard viewed them as no greater a threat to his plans than the average wizard or witch. From what she knew of Albus Dumbledore, he always tended to know much more than he let on, and yet, no one could recall him ever making a trip to consult the Animagus Registry— something which required a sign in and a record of exactly who you were looking for. The information was a matter of public record, but you could not simply walk in and, say, demand a list of every single Animagus in a given area. You had to fill out an official form and provide both a specific reason and a clear description of your search. If there was evidence of a possible criminal offense, an Auror was required to keep watch over you as you searched for records pertaining to a particular offender.

The Animagus Registry wasn't intended as a way to allow people access to such information as a means to persecute a known Animagus. It was there to protect both the Animagus and the general public from wrongful acts. Part of Hermione wondered if something had changed in respect to how it was all handled between the present time and the future that she remembered. Still, Minerva didn't seem to think there was anything inherently wrong about being registered, and now that she knew a fair number of Animagi, all of them registered, she had no reason to see ministerial registration in a bad light. Animagi protected their own, which led Hermione to believe that the Rita Skeeter she had known had been a truly horrible person. She had shunned all others, used her form for her own selfish benefit, and feared anyone discovering her illicit talent. As far as Hermione could see, the Animagi community was all one big family, brought together by shared talents and skills. If that was the case, the Rita Skeeter of her original timeline, and even the Marauders themselves, were the true oddballs. Then again, the future she remembered had never had anything remotely like the Auror Animagus Corps.

In her original time, she had not known Master Barberry and the virtual horde of other Masters who had proven themselves to be so very supportive in her studies under Masters Barberry and McGonagall. They had guided, protected, and taught Remus, Severus, and herself with undeniable benevolence and generosity. If this was indeed how things had originally been, she suddenly realised just how much the rising of Tom Riddle as the Dark Lord Voldemort had ruined a beautiful support system for emerging young talent.

The Dumbledore factor, however, was like an itch she couldn't quite reach. Something was terribly _off _about him, and maybe it was simply because her mind was no longer limited to the life experiences of a typical teenager, but Hermione wasn't quite sure. Something… something horrible had happened in her once-past. It was something that had taken the Masters' system completely out of the equation. It had started a war that destroyed countless lives, hidden under scores of murdered Muggles.

Hermione Granger knew nothing of these deaths. She couldn't imagine Master Barberry or any of his associates willingly permitting Tom Riddle or his minions to take over the system they had loved and so carefully nurtured. Something truly horrible must have happened. Was that the true reason for Minerva McGonagall's sad and stern countenance in her memories? Had something awful happened to Master Barberry?

Somehow, her being— her existing— in this particular time, had changed things irrevocably, but not in the bad way she had been so worried about before. People were surviving that had never been allowed to before. Other people, like Argus Filch, had a smile on their face and a fulfilling life. Severus and Remus were close friends in this present. James and Sirius were actually tolerated in the life of Severus Snape. They might never become fast friends, but Regulus was helping to keep them in check with a keen sense of retribution and clever pranks that kept the two who would have formed the infamous Marauders on their toes, in in ways that had nothing to do with the kind of malicious magical warfare in the halls of Hogwarts that she had once heard grim tales of.

And Regulus? Sirius dearly loved his little brother. That was all she really needed to know to realise that things were indeed much better. Her Lady Mother genuinely loved her family. Her personality was so much more than the hideous, shrieking portrait from her future-past. The stories Sirius once told Harry of his horrible family seemed so implausible, now. Foreign. Lies even. Could one person being there at just the right moment in time change things so very much?

Hermione fluffed her feathers and yawned. Flames flickered off of her body in blue waves that slowly shifted into a cooler green. She felt _better_. So much better now that the situation between herself and Lucius was finally concluded. She was not happy with the way things had ended, but she had accepted what could not be changed. There was a part of her which believed that Lucius and Narcissa were truly destined to be _together_— perhaps because that was the only way one Draco Malfoy would come into being. Maybe Draco, like Harry, had a destiny. It did not have to be a grand destiny. Maybe one of them, or both, had to be somewhere at exactly the right time to bring a smile to someone's face at just the right moment— like a phoenix born of a human mother, staring into the eyes of one young Lord Orion Black and seeing only love. One event changed _everything_.

"You cannot believe in fate," Hermione Granger said, her shade sitting primly on the nearby bed. Her hair was in pure disarray— bushy and horrible— as though she had never bothered to use hair tonic for one single day of her life. Truly, the girl should have met with Lily Evans and discovered the wonder and glory of effective hair care products.

"Why not?" Hermione Black answered, stepping off the nesting box into her human form. She pulled her cloak around her, sweeping about the room with her normal, almost Snape-like, flair.

"Fate?" Granger scoffed. "Some kind of divine influence guiding your path? _Please_. Where was divine influence when we were children dying in war?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You think that just because you didn't actually _see_ it that Magic abandoned you? How shallow can you be? You claim that the Purebloods were bigots and fools for not accepting you, but did you, even once, put all that cleverness and talent for research to good use and dig up the facts about _why_ they had become that way?"

"They judged me only because of my blood," Granger hissed.

"Perhaps," Hermione answered, "but after all you have seen in this time, all of these events that have come to pass, can you not see where the seeds of strife were carefully sown? It does not make them right for judging you, but it _does_ make it understandable."

Hermione Black stared into the whisky-brown eyes of her once future-self. "Magic has never once abandoned us. In every incarnation, it has been there, fueling you to fight and win against impossible odds. You protected your friend. You survived having foul slurs carved into your arm. You faced those impossible odds, again and again. Yet, you still thought it was all you. You thought you were an island, separate and isolated, all alone. Perhaps, you should give more credit to the Magic that bore you, sang to you when you slept as your Muggle parents rocked you, and whispered in your ear of future glory and wonder."

Granger turned away with a huff, angry tears forming in her eyes. "That's not true."

"It _is_ true," Hermione seethed. "If you had met our Lord Father in this future, would you have known how to bow your head in respect for his Line? Would you have even cared why? Would you be like Lily, oblivious and self-righteous to the end?"

"It wasn't like that," Granger snapped back.

"Wasn't it?" Hermione asked. "Perhaps we have been given this gift from Magic to learn the truth of what we have been given. Perhaps I lost Lucius because Magic is writing another story for me. Do you think he truly deserves this pain? The man who had done nothing but protect us from when we were very young?"

"He did unspeakable things—"

"So did you, Hermione Granger. So did _you_. You may not have murdered anyone in cold blood, but there was a girl cursed with boils on her face for life. There was a woman, albeit a deserving one, who couldn't hear hoofbeats without suffering vivid flashbacks to her treatment amongst the centaurs, who you _knew _would do unspeakable things to her."

"It was all for Harry," Granger protested.

"Blame whoever you wish," Hermione countered. "Both sides were fighting for their very way of life. One side was being used by another figure, who fed their paranoia and fears of the loss of hundreds and thousands of years of tradition, into the beast that eventually became a war. Maybe both sides were wrong."

Granger balked.

"Life is like Magic," Hermione lectured. "Magic is grey."

Granger looked conflicted. "Some things _had_ to be done."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her grey eyes almost clear. "Like Obliviating your parents? Without even asking them first? Without even having the honour to respect their wishes on the matter?"

Granger paled. "No! What I did, I did to save their lives!"

"You forced magic on them. They were _innocent,_" Hermione said levelly. "You could have explained it. You could have told them why, but you chose not to. You just made the decision without asking for their input and wiped their minds, not unlike that buffoon, Lockhart. You might have simply Imperiused them to move to America and take up veterinary school," Hermione accused.

"Those kinds of spells are _unforgivable_," Hermione protested in horror.

"Oh, and wiping someone's mind against their will, implanting false memories, and moving them to Australia is so much more forgivable?"

Hermione scrunched up her face. "That's not fair. You know I loved them. And they loved me."

"And that was a horrible way to show it! You could have contacted Viktor and arranged for them to be moved to Bulgaria temporarily. He offered to help you in any way he could. And instead of relying on the one person who respected you for who you were, you pushed him away. You gave him a laundry list of reasons why he should find someone else. You let him think you were dead for over two whole years after that wedding reception. You waited until the war was over and your name was ablaze with pretty lights on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ to even inform him you were still alive. That was how you showed your love, Hermione Granger. That is how you treated people who respected you. Loved you. Do not preach to me about unforgiveables and the right side of the war. There is no right side. There are only the winners and the losers, and the winners get to write the history books that justify their win."

"Voldemort was an evil man!" Granger yelled.

"Yes," Hermione said simply.

"Yes? You won't even argue the point?" Granger accused.

Hermione shook her head. "I do not disagree that Tom Riddle was a horrible excuse for a human being. He used people for his own ends. He treated them like cannon fodder for his own gain. Remind you of someone, Hermione Granger? Remind you of someone you thought was such a brilliant, wonderful, benevolent old man— a man who uses phoenix eggs to power his Time Turners, one of which he gave to you to use your third year? Makes you really wonder where that giant Time Turner came from at the Ministry. Who made it, do you think? Who didn't bother to explain to them exactly how it was created? Ever wonder why the Time Turners were banned? Ever wonder why Fawkes _really_ left after Dumbledore died? Why would such a generous and caring soul just leave when so much horror was coming? Hrm? What could possibly have happened that would drive a phoenix away from those he would have normally tried to help? Do tell."

Granger paced listlessly. "He helped Harry. He helped us!"

Hermione stared straight into her alter-ego's face. "To correct his original mistake. He effectively _made_ Tom Riddle. Do you think Tom Riddle would ever have become a rising Dark Lord if Dumbledore hadn't trained him to be just that? He rescued Riddle. He pulled him out of that Muggle orphanage. He ignored every single warning sign telling him that Tom Riddle was a very bad seed right from the start. Then, after all the horrible things he had decided to just ignore, Dumbledore finally realised he had to fix something. Yes, he helped you, but do ask yourself _why_. Ask yourself _why _Minerva always cried whenever she thought no one was looking. Ask yourself _why_ she couldn't bear to look at Dumbledore's portrait for so many years after the war."

Hermione Granger slumped. "But we won because of his help," she protested.

"You won because Magic blessed you and didn't give up on you.

"Magic is not alive," Granger reasoned. "It cannot make choices for us."

Hermione gave Granger a curt shake of the head. "Perhaps, Hermione Granger, Magic lets us make our own decisions. And karma is what punishes us for making selfish decisions in the end."

"Neville's parents didn't ask to put in St Mungo's with… with—"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I did not ask to be effectively murdered by my uncle and his wife!"

Granger looked pained.

"Perhaps it is not about karma for all things," Hermione said levelly. "Perhaps it is about things happening for a reason. What if Neville needed that strength gathered by years of seeing what the darkest of deeds did to his parents to become the man who took Nagini's head. What if shy, bumbling Neville never became anything more because his parents were there to coddle him throughout his life?"

"Just because you have a happy life does not make you faulty!" Granger argued.

"No, but think on this," Hermione answered. "What would Hermione Black have been without Hermione Granger's perspective? Without all of your guilt, mistakes, faults, and pain, would I have had the respect for the things I have been given in the here and now? Would I have been born a phoenix to look into the adoring eyes of my Lord Father and be cradled in the arms of my Lady Mother? Would I have appreciated all the things I was allowed if not for that tiny voice that whispered to me of what could have been had I not been there?"

Hermione Granger sat down, her face haunted.

"After all you did, Hermione Granger," Black surmised, "your supposed best friend cursed you out of your original life. Your old life cast you out, but it did not end there, dark and alone. Instead, we have each other. We have become more than we were, and Magic has never once let us down, even when it dealt us a heavy blow. Hermione Granger may never _be_ again, but we do exist together. Would you deprive your family of you. knowing that it has done so much good, all out of some selfish desire to return to the world that cast you out?"

"What if Harry is never born?" Granger gave a final protest, her face in her hands. "What if I mucked it up?"

Hermione Black pulled her robes across her body. "What if Harry Potter was never meant to be born or survive, Hermione?" she asked with a stone-like face. "No, think on this before you yell. Think. What if Harry Potter only existed in one life to put things in perspective for this one? What if in this world, it was never Harry Potter. Maybe it was Rosemary Potter. Maybe it was Jamie Potter. What if either of them grew up and became a famous Auror that saved thousands of lives by being in the right place at the right time? What if that could only happen if you were here with me now changing things for the better?"

Granger winced, her emotions swimming on her face, an overwhelming denial against a world without Harry James Potter shaking her to the core.

Hermione Black saw the despair written across her other aspect's face. "There, you see? You lost faith again. That is the difference, Hermione Jean Granger. You lose faith in yourself, your magic, your grades, or even Magic itself. Magic had never lost its faith in us. It has sung us to sleep every night since the day we were born."

"I will not lose faith in it," Hermione Black announced. "Neither should you."

The shade of Hermione Jean Granger closed her eyes and sighed. She stared into Hermione Black's eyes. "You do not truly mean to be cruel, do you?" she whispered.

Hermione shook her head. "We are both tenacious in defending what is what is important to us Hermione. We are both Hermione. Without what made you who you were, I would not be who I am now, but we are together now. We are Hermione anew. Without your understanding of Muggles, I could have been as bad as Bellatrix or I may have been the next Andromeda. Who is to say? Maybe, it was your compassion that allowed our Lord Father to open his heart to possibilities and tamed the scowl of our Lady Mother."

"Mum and Dad used to say, things happened for a reason," Granger said with a smile.

"And how is that any different from how I have faith in Magic?" Hermione replied. Suddenly, she turned away, tears forming in her eyes. "Even when the pain makes me doubt my faith by taking the things I love from me."

Granger took her hands in hers. "I'm sorry. I know Lucius… this Lucius is not the man who did such horrible things. I just don't want to be lost. I don't want to be forgotten."

Hermione sniffled, wiping her tears from her face. "We are one, you and I. Magic brought us together for a reason. All your faults and mine, joined together to find a more perfected end."

"We can make things better," Granger whispered.

"We already have," Hermione said.

Granger smiled. "Then, let's keep doing that."

Hermione smiled. "Let's."

Granger looked up into the grey eyes of Hermione Ankaa Black and disappeared.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_April 9th, 1976 - Waxing gibbous 69%_

"You ready, Fawkes?" Remus asked the phoenix as he clung to Severus' shoulder.

The red and orange bird warbled, bobbing his head.

Hermione stared at the smooth, flawless wall. "He never replaced the ward. I can't sense it."

"We shouldn't risk it, even so," Severus said.

"Master McGonagall says that the Headmaster is entertaining Aurors and the Board of Governors in the monthly staff meeting, so now is the best time to be doing this, since everyone who can be is currently enjoying the day exploring the wonders of Hogsmeade," Remus said.

Hermione shook her head. "Ever since that incident with the malevolent mixture, the Aurors haven't been letting the Headmaster slide without status reports on a regular basis." She paused. "It feels odd talking about Aurors as separate entities, when we are, technically, trained Aurors ourselves."

"Animagus Rescue Team, technically," Remus quipped.

"A division of the Aurors," Hermione huffed.

Severus reached over and whapped them both upside the head. "Technicalities. Phoenix nest. Priority."

Both Remus and Hermione slumped, caught in their distraction.

The trio walked together, up and down the hallway, focusing on the same need: the hidden resting place for Fawkes' eggs. Once, twice, three times they walked down the same hall, keeping their thoughts centered. By the time they paced the hall the third time, crackling sounded as an ancient looking door formed in the stone, very unlike the ones that had formed before.

"It formed precisely where Hermione touched the wall that day," Remus noted.

"Where the ward was," Severus said with a nod. "Not a coincidence."

"Not bloody likely," Remus snorted.

"Mmmrrrrrow!" came a distinctive meow.

"Mrs Norris!" Hermione greeted, picking up the patrolling cat.

The cat enthusiastically rubbed up against Hermione's face.

"If we don't come out… will you find Argus? Or Master McGonagall?"

"Mrrrrow!" Mrs Norris answered.

The trio took turns petting her before Hermione set her back down on the floor.

Severus and Remus opened the door together, exposing an exceedingly cluttered room within.

Hermione squared her shoulders and strode across the threshold into the room beyond.

Mrs Norris watched the door disappear and sat down against the wall opposite it, her tail flicking lazily as she kept her own feline vigil.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"This room is such a mess," Severus noted in disgust as they stood surrounded in everything from old brooms, cabinets, trunks, nick-knacks, draperies, duvets, and countless other items.

"I think this was my mum's lost teapot," Remus said with a little horror, staring at an old, ceramic teapot that was sitting on a tray.

"Erm, not to be rude, Remus, but isn't your mum Muggle?"

"She is," Remus replied. "That's why it baffles me, how could her old teapot have ended up in here?"

Severus looked a little disconcerted.

Fawkes, however, was suddenly very interested in something, and he took off of Severus' shoulder and flew deeper into the room.

"I think this is the book Alice lost," Hermione noted. "Look, here's the candle wax Frank spilled on it."

"Well, maybe this is the best place to find a lost next of phoenix eggs," Remus reasoned. "In a room of lost things."

"This room looks different from the one we were in before. That one was cluttered too, but the items in here all seem to be truly lost rather than simply cast off," Severus said, drawing his finger across a small chest. He opened it curiously after casting a spell to make sure it wasn't trapped or warded. The chest creaked open and exposed hundreds of sparkling rubies and emeralds.

"Holy Merlin," Remus gasped. "Treasure!"

The trio stared at it.

Suddenly, the chest shimmered along with a nearby candlestick, and vanished with a pop. In its place was a pile of one-sided socks, all mismatched.

"Hey, that's my missing sock!" Remus said, snatching his favourite grey woolen sock from the pile and hugging it. "My mum made them for me out of alpaca wool. She always had a love for the creatures, for some reason."

Severus plucked one dark green sock from the pile. "I wondered where that sock went," he said, stashing it in his robes.

Hermione looked around in bemusement. "This is like… some kind of lost item limbo."

Remus stared a giant bowl of buttons and laughed. "Hey, remember how Regulus said he lost his favourite button from his traveling cloak? It was abalone shell shaped into a blackbird."

"Mmmhmm," Severus answered. He plucked a familiar-looking button out of the bowl. "Lost and found."

"Father gave him that for a lucky charm as a kid," Hermione said. "At night, it would glow so he wouldn't trip over things and bring the unholy wrath of our mother down upon the house."

Remus chuckled. "Better take that to him, Severus. I have the feeling we are allowed to take things from here if we genuinely wish to return them to the person to whom they belong."

Severus nodded. "I don't sense anything malevolent in the room itself."

A nearby coat rack disappeared, and in its place was a gaudy-looking lamp.

"Ugh," Remus said. "If I lost that, I'd be happy."

Severus poked the lampshade, which was scarlet velvet covered in bright yellow stars and yarn tassels. "I second that."

"Looks like something you'd see in Dumbledore's office," Hermione commented awkwardly.

"Or a brothel," Severus said sombrely.

Remus shot Severus a look.

"What?" Severus asked. "You saw that horrible decor on that last Animagus Rescue mission in Knockturn Alley."

Remus shook his head violently. "I was really trying very hard not to look."

Severus sighed. "I'm an eagle. While your nose was plastered to the floor, I had the bird's eye view."

"The smell wasn't all that great either," Remus complained.

Hermione shook her head and looked around some more. "Blue and white saddle oxfords… well one of a pair." She picked it up and flipped it over. "Hardly any tread used. Someone is unhappy."

"Hey, this is a wand!" Remus said, pointing on a table.

"That's Peter's wand," Severus said. "Remember how James and Sirius said they dipped the end in glow in the dark paint so he could find it in the dark?"

"More like so they could find it in the dark," Remus said.

Hermione frowned. "I cannot imagine losing my wand. Well and truly losing it, I mean. Confiscated is an entirely different story. I've seen the cabinet of wands Auror Moody has at the office."

"Hey, guys, look at this," Remus said, pointing to a piece of parchment on a dusty desk. It was sticking out of an old, worn photo album.

Curious, the three flipped through the album.

"Those two look like brothers," Remus said. "They have the same auburn hair and blue eyes."

Severus tapped his finger on one of the photos. "That must be their mother and possibly their sister."

"She doesn't look like the brothers," Remus boggled. "Her hair is blonde and her eyes are brown."

Hermione whapped them both upside the head. "Turn the pages. Maybe we can figure out who they are."

Remus looked sheepish, and flipped the pages.

"This picture looks…" Hermione's eyes widened when she flipped over the picture, and her voice trailed off. "Grindelwald," she whispered. "Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore 1898."

Remus and Severus stared closer.

They began to flip over the pictures, hoping for more names and dates.

"Kendra Dumbledore, Percival Dumbledore," Severus listed. "Ariana and Aberforth Dumbledore."

"Headmaster Dumbledore has a brother?" Remus asked.

Severus arched a brow. "Apparently."

They continued to flip through and examine the photo album. Hermione tugged the parchment free and began to read it.

* * *

_Dear Gellert,_

_Despite our best efforts, the reuniting of all of the Hallows seems to doomed to failure. Each time I think I have found a good lead, I find it to be yet another fruitless effort._

_Our dream of a world where we can put an end to the International Statute of Secrecy and create a benevolent utopia to keep Muggles from hurting themselves or those such as my sister seems to remain frustratingly out of reach. I have heard that the Elder Wand may be located with a man named Gregorovitch, but while I have found the name, the location remains elusive. I have narrowed down the possibilities for the cloak of invisibility to a number of families, but, so far, which one is the one is still only a guess. I have no proof._

_I know you want to take a more direct approach to finding the Hallows, but I beg you not to attempt to force the information out of people this early in the game. Give me time to see if I can acquire the information without the use of either threat or coercion. _

_Until we obtain all three Hallows, we cannot become the Masters of Death. We must be patient in our quest to achieve our ultimate goals._

_I will contact you soon. It is not safe to owl you from where I am currently staying, but as soon as I am able, I will send it on to you. My apologies if this arrives to you quite late._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus_

* * *

"Eighteen ninety-nine," Severus said, tapping the parchment.

Fawkes gave a loud warble, and the trio dropped the album to pursue the egg-seeking phoenix. They found him deeper in the room, surrounded by lost coats, chairs, and a collection of fire-pokers.

"How do you lose a chair?" Severus boggled.

"How do you lose your fire-poker?" Remus countered.

Fawkes warbled from his haphazard perch on a chair quite a distance up in the air on a stack of chairs. The stack of chairs wobbled under the phoenix's weight.

"Climbing is not an option," Severus said as he eyed the wobbling stack. "And if we add more weight to the stack here, who knows what will come crashing down."

"We can't risk the eggs," Remus agreed.

Fawkes pecked near himself, and a magical barrier prevented his beak from getting past. The phoenix chirped his distress.

"Maybe we can help him help himself," Severus said. "If we dispel that barrier, he can grab his eggs and fly them to us. We won't have to climb up there to get them."

"I'd like to know how the Headmaster got them up there," Remus muttered.

"Maybe they didn't start up there," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Stuff in here appears and disappears randomly."

"We should hurry, in case something disappears or reappears, moving the nest somewhere else," Severus urged.

The trio nodded together.

"Let's sit here, in this clear space and link hands. We can meditate together and link up with Fawkes, using his eyes to see and dispel the barrier."

They sat together, clearing their minds, hands linked. At first, nothing happened, but after a few minutes, there was a strange vibration in the air and a faint popping sound followed by Fawkes giving a happy warble.

The trio looked up, and Fawkes was gathering round, metallic orbs in his mouth and flying down to them. He carefully placed them in their hands, then flew up to gather more. Back and forth the dutiful phoenix flew, carefully cramming eggs into his beak, and bringing them down to the trio. Egg after egg filled their hands until they were starting to get concerned about where to put them all.

"There has to be a box around here somewhere," Severus said with some concern."Surely the room wouldn't begrudge us taking a box or chest or something out for the phoenix eggs?"

As if the room seemed to understand them, a nearby gramophone disappeared and an ornately-carved mahogany box appeared in its place.

"Looks like my mum's old jewelry box that she kept all her treasures in," Remus said.

"Maybe it _is_ your mum's old jewelry box," Hermione said. "Well let's open it and see if we can use it to put these eggs in for safekeeping."

Remus nodded and worked the latch of the box. He frowned as he looked in, then boggled. "Someone lost a bloody jeweled tiara," he complained. "How do you lose one of those things anyway?"

Hermione's head snapped up as Fawkes placed another egg in her hands. "Let me see, Remus, you're in the way."

Remus shuffled, being careful not to rattle the gathered eggs in his hands.

A sparkling silver diadem lay on velvet. A deep sapphire blue gem was mounted on the center.

"That's not a tiara, Remus," Hermione said very carefully. "That's the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw."

Remus and Severus almost dropped their eggs. "What?!"

"Careful," Hermione said. "If this is anything like my vision, that's a Horcrux."

Remus and Severus stared at it, swallowing hard and nodding to her.

Hermione closed her eyes a moment. She opened them after a minute and sighed. "This room wanted us to find it," she said. "Hogwarts is helping us. We'll find a way to deal with the Horcrux, but first things first. We need to protect Fawkes' eggs."

Severus pulled out his lost sock. "Remus let me have your sock."

Remus stuck out his foot.

Severus glared at him.

Remus startled, remembering. "Oh it's in my… give me a second." He cradled the eggs in his robes carefully, and fished out his lost and found sock.

Severus used both socks to lift the diadem out of the box and place it on the floor between them. "I'd rather not touch it, if that's alright with you," he said, warily eyeing the diadem.

Hermione nodded. She snatched up Remus' alpaca wool sock and placed it into the box. "Sorry, Remus. Your woolen sock is going to be a good cushion for the eggs. She pointed her wand at it. "Engorgio."

The woolen sock grew very large, enough to fill the bottom of the box.

Hermione carefully transferred the eggs into the box. When all the eggs seemed to be safely situated, she transformed into her phoenix form. Using her beak, she began to rip her downy feathers from her breast, using them to surround the eggs with loving care.

Severus winced as the ripping sounds affected him. Seeing the phoenix rendering herself partially nude was more than slightly disturbing.

Fawkes seemed to think it was a grand idea, and he, too, began to rip at his breast feathers, helping to line the box with warm phoenix down. Soon, the entire box was filled with eggs and multi-coloured down.

Hermione and Fawkes entwined necks briefly, staring down at the round eggs. Some were a shining gold, and some were a dull, flat, slate colour.

Fawkes chirped sadly at the slate-coloured eggs, hanging his head. Tears flowed down his beak, splashing down on the dull shells.

Hermione seemed caught up with the wave of phoenix emotion, and she, too, rained tears down upon the dull, slate eggs. Their combined tears flowed over the unhealthy-looking eggshells.

"Severus, look," Remus said. "The eggshells are changing."

Severus looked into the box past the two crying birds. Sure enough, the dull eggs were turning a mottled grey-gold where the tears hit them, before beginning to shift into a dull and then shining gold.

They stared as each phoenix cried over the eggs in a seemingly non-stop flow of healing tears. Fawkes rubbed his beak against Hermione's and their tears combined, sliding down their beaks and dripping down over the precious eggs.

The eggs glowed brilliantly as the sound of multiple tiny heartbeats resonated from within the box. The two boys stared with wonder, amazed anew at the sheer power of phoenix tears.

Fawkes and Hermione warbled together, spreading their wings as they perched on the side of the box. They sang, united, filling all who heard it with joyous celebration.

Fawkes hopped off the box and tapped the lid with his beak, and Severus obliged, placing the lid back in place. Hermione hopped off the rim to land by the diadem, staring at it with birdish intensity. Remaining tears flowed down the side of her beak and splashed onto the diadem with an audible splat.

Hermione squawked in surprise as the diadem trembled and began to scream, black smoke rising out of it where her tears had landed on the Horcrux.

Fawkes landed beside her, staring at the diadem with a quizzically cocked head. A few remaining tears trickled down his beak and onto the diadem's large, blue jewel.

The diadem screamed. Thick, black, acrid smoke billowed outward from the metal, forming into an impenetrable cloud of gut-twisting, vile, and utter wrongness. It was inherently unnatural. It was pure, unadulterated evil.

The cloud rose up in the room like a giant, touching the ceiling, and then it bore down on them in a rush of dark energy, as if aiming to smother them all to death under a crashing wave of sheer malevolence.

As the dark cloud descended, Fawkes let out a cry of pure rage, his body setting itself to bright white flames. He screamed, the sound sending a pulse of pure energy outward like a supernova. His wings fanned out magnificently like a thunderbird as his size seemed to grow. He perched on Severus' shoulder, but his wings and body covered all of them together with the white intensity of his protective flames.

He screamed again, and the pulse blasted outward in a blazing hot wind. Vivid white and blue flames vortexed around the three apprentices. The images of many, many, black-eyed and fluffy chicks filled their minds as Fawkes' righteous fury blasted outwards.

Even without words, the message was perfectly clear: protect family.

The blast of cleansing fire consumed the room, and the wrong, unnatural scream of dying evil was drowned out by the radiant light of Fawkes and his glorious song of love and purity.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When the brightness faded, Severus and Remus loosened their mutual hug to protect Hermione who was protecting the box with her tightly-wrapped wings. Fawkes perched on Severus' shoulder and warbled casually as if nothing significant had happened. He tugged on Severus' hair, making it look unkept.

"It's gone," Remus said with wonder. He placed his hand over the diadem. "It's pure and clean again."

Severus too, cast his hands over it. "You're right. I feel magic in it, but it's not unnatural or corrupt in any way."

Hermione tilted her head and stared at it with her bird eyes. She warbled happily. Fawkes landed beside her, rubbing his head against hers.

"I think we need another box," Severus said with a little wonder. "Masters Barberry and McGonagall should see this at once."

There was a soft popping sound as a black-lacquered box fell from the ceiling and bonked Remus on the head.

"Ow!" he said, rubbing his head as the box fell into his lap.

Hermione and Fawkes looked upward and warbled together nervously.

Severus plucked the box up from Remus' lap and looked up. "Thank you," he said.

An ice-pack fell from thin air into Remus's lap.

Remus sighed, placing the pack against his throbbing head. He looked upward. "Thanks," he mumbled.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N: **Fawkes is not a slacker dad.


	37. 1976 Phoenixes, Wolves, and Bears,Oh My!

**A/N: **Thank you wonderful people who have supported me so positively the last chapter and through all of my stories. You have helped me greatly to get over the nay-sayers that seemed to have popped out of the woodwork during the last chapter, and it makes me happy to know that the majority of you are both kind enough to review and review with your account. That makes me very happy.

School is back in session, so chapters won't be coming every day. I realise I spoiled you there for a while, but neither I or my lovely betas are able to keep that up forever! (Sorry, we're not Orion Black… I know... so disappointing!)

**Beta Love:** fluffpanda, The Dragon and the Rose, dutchgirl01

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 37**

**Phoenixes, Wolves, and Bears (Oh, My!)**

"Bloody hell," James burst into the trio's waiting room like an unwanted house guest.

Sirius came panting in just a couple seconds behind him. "H… H… Damnation," Sirius panted. "Have you seen my twin?"

Severus lifted one brow, his quill freezing over a stack of first year essays. "Hn?"

Sirius waved his hands, gesturing. "She's about this high. Brown fur. Long tail. Squeaks?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but," Remus said as he came gliding in with a stack of scrolls to go over. "But Our Most Royal Conflagration With the Sharpened Beak chirps and warbles and sometimes yodels thanks to Master Shattenjäger."

James and Sirius slumped together. "Maybe not right at this moment."

"What?" Severus and Remus stared at the two suspicious-looking Gryffindors. Their narrowed eyes bled into gold almost immediately.

James and Sirius waved their hands frantically.

"See, we were trying to transfigure each other," James blurted.

"The spell, um..." Sirius bit his lip, "ricochetted."

"You let a spell," Severus started.

"A _human_ transfiguration spell," Remus continued.

"Hit a newly-regenerated phoenix?" Severus finished.

James and Sirius looked altogether pathetic and woebegone.

"She has been ignoring us lately," Sirius whinged.

"And that excuses you from hitting her with a human transfiguration spell, _how_?" Severus rumbled, his knuckles turning white as he grasped his quill.

"We forgot she was there!" James blurted. "We got into a blazing row, and—"

"Just flung spells around a room like a couple of complete imbeciles," Remus said, tapping his quill feather against his face.

"You are both absolute _idiots_," Severus informed them.

James and Sirius sputtered in indignation.

Severus' deep black eyes bored into them. "She had finished with her grading hours ago. Do you think she flew into that room just to give you the silent treatment? She wanted to spend time with her twin. Perhaps, she wished to watch what he did every day with his best mate. And because you didn't hear her say so, you think she was ignoring you. How utterly juvenile."

James flushed red and looked like he was going to say something rash, but Sirius put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "He's right. I'm an imbecile, and we turned my twin sister into an _otter_."

"We have to find her before McGonagall finds out! She'll give us detention until we're forty!" James frantically insisted. "Come on!" James dragged a protesting Sirius off by the ear.

Severus and Remus simultaneously closed their eyes, grasped the bridge of their noses and shook their heads in disgust.

Minerva glided in from her study, carrying a squeaky brown otter in her arms. Hermione was snuffling her face with her whiskers and squeaking up a storm of commentary as though she was speaking in the Queen's English.

"So," McGonagall said, sitting down in the nearby chair. She stuffed a crawfish into the otter's mouth with a bemused expression. "Who do have to assign detention to until they are forty?"

Severus made antlers with his fingers pressed to the top of his head. Remus cupped his hands like dog ears and wiggled them.

Minerva sighed. "I swear to Merlin, I'm going to murder my own House, starting with those two."

"Azkaban wouldn't really suit you, Master," Remus said.

Hermione placed her webbed paws against her face and snuffled her nose.

"Hermione would miss you," Severus said, passing Hermione a clam from the bowl that had just appeared on front of them courtesy of some very efficient house-elf.

Hermione snatched to offering greedily and squeaked in happiness, gnawing on the clam with her jaws.

Minerva wilted. "You're so _adorable_."

Hermione stared at her with wide, shining, grey eyes. She squeaked adoringly into Minerva's face.

"Ugh," Minerva gasped. "Clam breath! Are the papers graded yet?"

"Ready for your final look over, Master," Severus and Remus chimed.

"Good," Minerva said, chuckling as Hermione wriggled up against her and squeaked. "Let's take our furry little friend here to Barberry and see if he can trigger her reversion. He was always more delicate about it than I was. Then we can meet with the other masters about what you found in the Come and Go Room."

Hermione gave a sad sound, with whiskers drooping and her soul in her eyes.

"Or we could visit the centaur first and assist them with bringing in their fish from the the river and emptying their crab traps," Minerva supposed.

Hermione squeaked excitedly.

Severus and Remus grinned. "Excellent!"

"Only you, Hermione," Minerva chided. "Could want to stay an otter just so you had a perfect excuse to go swimming with the centaur foals."

Hermione chirped decisively.

Minerva shook her head then clapped her hands together. "Let's go!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_April 14th, 1976. Full Moon 100%_

"There you go, my apprentice," Barberry said with a warm smile, tapping the otter on the nose.

Hermione appeared in the otter's place with an almost sad expression.

Barberry chuckled. "Such a sad face for one liberated from being an aquatic mammal," he noted.

Hermione shrugged. "It was fun."

Her master smiled at her warmly. "I'm sure it was."

Barberry gestured for the trio to sit in front of him, and they took their seats in a semi-circle at his feet, looking up at him. It had been that say since they were twelve, and the casual intimacy between them had not changed.

"First, I bring news from the other masters," he started, smiling as the three perked. "The diadem you brought to us was indeed the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw, and it was thoroughly cleansed. The magic that lay within remains as pure as it was the day Rowena Ravenclaw crafted it. It is priceless beyond measure and we have squirreled it away into a very special vault in Gringott's in conjunction with the Aurors until the more sinister matter of what you found embedded in the diadem has been fully investigated."

Barberry sipped his tea and sighed. "After viewing your memories, I can only confirm that it was, indeed, a Horcrux— an abomination of terrible evil. We must presume that Hermione's visions of a possible future are far too accurate and dangerous to be ignored. This means we must presume that there are others out there, and this was confirmed after I spoke with Lord Orion Black just this morning."

The trio exchanged worried glances.

"Lord Black brought us a diary that had been hoarded by the recently incarcerated ex-lord Abraxas Malfoy. It was labeled Tom Marvolo Riddle. The Young Lord, Lucius Malfoy, had it sent to Lord Black on the moment his safety was compromised under a timed and specific conditional spell," Barberry explained. "Lord Black has been working with the Aurors since he received it, and after finding the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff wrapped in leather in the old vault of the former Lord Abraxas Malfoy, we are very much worried about the location of the other Horcruxes from Hermione's visions."

"So they are true?" Severus asked worriedly.

Gilford shook his head. "Think of the visions as a possible map, Severus. Time is fickle, and it is often something that plays by its own rules. Consider how many things we do in a single day, where we could have chosen to do something else, yet did not. Think of all the things we do differently, yet find ourselves in the exact same place as someone else. There are differences. There are possibilities. In this case, Hermione's visions of a future in which Tom Riddle nearly succeeded in destroying the Wizarding world are, in fact, strikingly similar to the world we're living in right now. But we already know that some things are definitely _not_ the same. You, my apprentices, are all proof of that. My being here, perhaps, is also proof of that, as it is obvious that I do not play a part in Hermione's vision of the future, nor do any of the masters we all know and work with today. You, Severus, were never friends with Remus. Hermione never knew either of you as friends and comrades."

"I can't even imagine that," Remus said.

Severus nodded in clear agreement.

Hermione's hand trembled. "It was such a lonely time for me," she said wistfully. "I did have friends, but, they weren't anything like Remus and Severus. I can't imagine not having this. I can't imagine not being here."

"You are here, Hermione," Barberry said gently. "We are here; all of us are together. Any maybe Magic has guided us to this place to live the life that should have been yours."

The trio exchanged glances and nodded.

"Once we have ensured that Fawkes' nest is stable and protected," Barberry said, "they should be ready to hatch. That remains our priority so Fawkes is no longer compromised by the ransom of his nest. The eggs seem to be stable and growing in size, even the smaller ones. Lord Black has been good enough to offer his services in helping build and ward a safehouse of sorts— a rookery— where their presence can be concealed. The other masters have also agreed to assist in the tending and guarding of the nest, so it will never be only protected by either Fawkes or Hermione, depending who is sitting on it at any given time."

The trio looked greatly relieved and nodded to him.

"How many eggs survived, Master?" Remus asked.

"Twenty one total, Remus," Barberry said with a grin. "Can you imagine? Zabulon was a handful all by himself."

"Three didn't make it," Hermione said, her face terribly sad.  
"The eggs were too weak, even with the tears to help them."

Severus placed his hand on Hermione's arm supportively. She smiled at him gratefully.

"Now, my apprentices, Auror Moody has requested our assistance in a matter of great importance," Barberry said. "The cleaning of the diadem went so well that he would like to do another on the cup and the diary under the watchful eye of the Auror specialists in case something goes wrong. Far be it from us to demand anything of Fawkes he wasn't willing to do on its own, we should not rely on him to be there to take things out in a blaze of protective rage. Moody would like for you, Hermione, to cry upon the Horcruxes, then they can deal with what comes out."

Hermione tilted her head, exchanging looks with the trio. She nodded after a moment. "It sounds like a good plan," she said.

Barberry paused. "There is another thing I think we should all prepare for."

Three sets of curious eyes bored down on Gilford.

"Once the eggs are hatched, the Masters are planning to have a chat with Albus Dumbledore to… test out the waters," Barberry explained. "Before this happens, I would like you to, if you can, Hermione, help us find what other Horcruxes there may be hidden— hopefully in the same place you had in your vision of the future. If we check those places we may be able to gain control of a dangerous situation before it becomes the nightmare we have all seen."

Hermione nodded in fervent agreement.

"There was a locket," she recalled. "Such an evil thing. It was a locket that originally belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It was in a cave by a seaside where Riddle's orphanage used to take the children during the summer. Harry went there with Dumbledore. It was dark cave by a churning sea, containing a lake filled with Inferi lurking under the water. The only way to get to the cave safely was by magic. Even when inside, Dumbledore spilt blood to open the way to even greater horrors."

"What is worse than a lake full of Inferi?" Remus asked.

Hermione's face grew haunted. "Harry said Dumbledore had to drink a potion from a basin. The potion had to be consumed, or it would just reappear back in the basin. He never said why they couldn't just fish it out. Dumbledore drank it all, suffering terribly for it. It made him so very thirsty, so Harry tried to conjure water for him. But the cup that had been left by the basin refused to hold anything other than the potion for which it was intended. He went to the edge of the lake to scoop up some water for him… and that is when he found out about the Inferi."

"Couldn't he have crafted a cup from a stone? Frozen the water to make a chalice? Something?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. I wasn't there. I gather he was very upset because Dumbledore was in so much pain and Harry probably couldn't think straight in his panic."

"Then what happened?"

"The Inferi pulled him under, trying to drown him,," Hermione recollected. "Dumbledore recovered his wand and cast a wall of flame around them, driving the Inferi back. Then they escaped on Harry's broom and went back to Hogwarts. Headmaster Dumbledore didn't survive the night, though. Death Eaters came to the school that same night thanks to a pair of magical cabinets, one of which was located in the Room of Requirement. "

"Death Eaters had magical cabinets in Hogwarts?" Severus asked with a scowl.

"Draco Malfoy was given the task to kill Professor Dumbledore and find a way to get them into Hogwarts undetected," Hermione replied. "If he didn't, his family would have been murdered. He tried other ways— poison and a cursed necklace, but they failed. The cabinet was the last resort, but it worked. Dumbledore fell from the Astronomy Tower that night, and we found out shortly after that the locket was a fake. R.A.B. had liberated the real locket in the hopes of destroying it."

"Regulus?" Severus asked, stunned.

Hermione nodded. "My baby brother gave up his life to try and destroy the Horcrux, but Kreacher couldn't do it. It took eighteen years for the locket to be destroyed, and that was a whole different story."

"I will presume that whatever caused Regulus to become a Death Eater and then turn on Riddle in that timeline has not happened this time?" Gilford surmised.

Hermione nodded. "He did it after he graduated," she said. "After he had taken the Dark Mark."

"Surely Sirius would have prevented that?" Remus asked, horror written all over his face.

Hermione shook her head. "That Sirius _hated_ Regulus from the moment he was Sorted into Slytherin. The only person he hated even more was Severus. His hatred for the rest of his family paled in comparison."

Hermione looked haunted. She twisted a tendril of hair with her finger unconsciously in agitation.

Gilford poured tea into cups and then passed them around. Hermione sipped her tea thoughtfully for a few minutes before continuing.

"The ring was once the ring of Marvolo Gaunt," she said. "Harry gave me a vivid description of its former location from a Pensieve memory belonging to one Bob Ogden. It was a run down shack in the middle of nowhere, just outside the village of Little Hangleton. There was a dead snake nailed to the door. The ring had been stashed under a floorboard— one of the few prized possessions of Marvolo Gaunt, before Tom Riddle, the grandson he never knew he had, came back to murder him."

Hermione's eyes grew dark. "There was a compulsion on the ring that fed on Dumbledore's greatest hidden desire: being reunited with his sister and parents or perhaps a dream that they would be given life again in whole. Harry wasn't entirely sure because so much of this information came to him in the middle of the war. He had a lot on his plate. The ring contained a withering curse. Even strong magic could only isolate the curse to his hand and slow it down. Eventually, it would have killed him."

"Ironically reuniting him with his parents and sister," Remus whispered.

Hermione nodded slowly. "The last two Horcruxes—"

"There were more?"

"That would mean… seven times?"

Hermione gave a grim nod. "The last two were _living_ Horcruxes. One was a serpent named Nagini… the other was Harry himself— created the night his mother threw herself in front of a killing curse to save his life. It ricocheted, and destroyed Voldemort's physical body. Until one of his servants managed to resurrect him several years later, via a ritual that gave him a new body."

"This is much to consider, Hermione, thank you," Barberry said. "You three should go situate yourselves in the garden for the moonrise. As much as we all love Tuft in all his glory, he has a habit of trying to eat the feather pillows I'm so very fond of."

The trio grinned.

"Let me know if there is anything else you need from me, Master," Hermione added.

Barberry patted her hand with his. "You have already done so much, Hermione. Now it's up to me, Minerva, the other Masters, possibly your Lord Father, and the Aurors to handle the rest. They will tell us what needs to be done, once everything has been confirmed."

Hermione, Severus, and Remus nodded and stood, setting their empty teacups on the tray. "Goodnight, Master Barberry," they said together.

"Goodnight, my children," he answered. "Have a good romp."

The trio dashed off to make their way to the garden as Barberry sighed deeply, leaning back against his chair with a heavy weariness.

The vision of the possible future was very bleak, indeed. They would need to tread lightly and watch over each other even more intently to make certain the Dark Lord's rise never came to pass. Surely if Magic had made it so they had such a grand opportunity to change what _could_ be, it would not choose to simply snatch it all away?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Sis!" Regulus stuffed his head into Hermione's feathers with an excited exclamation. "I hear them!"

Hermione and Fawkes stared at the youngest Black with groggy expressions. The warm heat from their combined flames had but them both into a mutual doze. Hermione nailed Regulus on the forehead with her beak.

"Aw, ow!" Regulus bemoaned. "Come on, sis! This is a day of a lifetime!"

Fawkes preened Hermione's headcrest and chirped lazily, adjusting himself over the nesting box. The rookery had been constructed with a infinite care for the comfort of the birds, and once all the eggs had been transferred there, Fawkes and very carefully filled the nest, moving the collection of down to shelter them as the eggs seemed to grow into themselves, awoken from their stasis by the presence of those that would be their parents.

Perhaps, due to the sheer number of eggs, it had taken a while for them to even consider hatching. Zabulon, who seemed utterly delighted to have the prospect of siblings, had joined in the vigil for the eggs, and even shared his flames to keep the large nest warm. He had even "assisted" Regulus is donating quite a bit of his bear woolen undercoat to line the nest, much to Regulus' distress about his dignity of being an unbecoming half-naked bear. And, while Remus had been worried about becoming defurred thanks to phoenix fire, Tuft had shown a strange nuturing side of himself for his bird-pack and cuddled around the nesting box full of eggs, almost as if the werewolf knew something wonderful was coming and he wanted to be a part of it too.

Tuft had lovingly curled around "his birds" and licked each egg as he turned them over equally, showing a tending that seemed to carry over from Remus' knowledge of how to tend incubating eggs. He curled his tail around Fawkes and Zabulon, snuggling his head into their feathers as he sat his vigil, ears swiveling to hear the tiny peeps that were coming from inside the shells. His tail would thump rapidly when her heard the tiny sounds from within.

Hermione and Severus, stuck as wolves for duration of all full moons, curled up with him, making the nest probably the first and only phoenix nest tended both by phoenix, werewolf, wolf, human, and one semi-naked bear, not excluding the check-ins of one silver tabby, a plump English robin, a number of owls, one smug-looking Kneazle, and Treacle, who wasn't about to be left out either.

Everyone was fairly certain that the poor chicks were going to come out in the the dead of night, singing like robins, preening like cats, howling to the moon, and having an irrepressible drive to deliver the post amongst other traits that came inherent with phoenixes.

Tuft heard the noise first— the shuffling gait of stealthy feet that were trying remain as quiet as possible. Perhaps, had they been human, the ruse would have succeeded, but Tuft was not unobservant when it came to members of his pack, whether they had fur, feathers, or some combination thereof. The werewolf rose from his curled position around the eggs, his lips curling back from his teeth in a menacing, yet silent, snarl. His ears pinned back flat against his skull, hackles raised, and tail lowered straight from his back in a stiff line.

The change in Tuft alerted Fawkes, who pecked Hermione on the ear to rouse her. Hermione shot her head up, ears flicking and then flattening against her head. She whined softly, nudging Severus, who was instantly up and alert when the pressure of her body against him changed. Fawkes began to move their collection of down and fur over his nest, concealing the eggs. Then, he settled on the next and seemingly disappeared, his plumage changing from the bright red and orange of his normal, vibrant self into the relatively muted colours of the nest.

The snarls spread from werewolf to wolf to wolf, and the trio padded silently out of the Rookery, staying to the shadows as their ears and noses told them all they needed to know. Sagacity flew off on silent wings, heading towards the main estate, knowing that Master Barberry and McGonagall would be within. As the footsteps grew closer, a golden glow filled the eyes of each wolf before they disappeared into the undergrowth surrounding the rookery.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Cain, I don't feel right about this," the darkly-clad young wizard said.

"Malcolm," Cain whispered, "you won't be feeling anything but wonderfully rich when we get ourselves our own breeding pair of phoenixes and have so many galleons to our name any pain we could have imagined will seem like nothing."

"This is Master Barberry's estate," Malcolm insisted. "The wards were attuned to us when we visited with Master Armstead. _They'll_ know. _He'll_ know."

"And, by then, we'll be long gone," Cain reassured his reluctant associate. "Master Armstead is entirely too busy cooing over his latest barmy project in the laboratory to bother reading his own mail, anyway."

"Why _this_ night, Cain?" Malcolm asked.

"It's the only night they suspiciously didn't ask for someone to help them guard the nest," Cain said. "We know Barberry is in the manor. We saw him. Where he is, his apprentices are. That leaves the nest currently unguarded."

"The full moon," Malcolm said, fidgeting nervously.

"You pay far too much attention to silly rumours, Malcolm," Cain scolded.

"Werewolves are _not_ silly rumours!" Malcolm protested.

"Please," Cain scoffed. "Do you really think that Master Barberry would take such a risk as to harbour an actual werewolf on his grounds? His apprentices made the bloody Wolfsbane Potion, for crying out loud. Even if there _was_ a werewolf here, it would be on the potion and thus docile as a lamb."

Malcolm looked dubious and decidedly less-than-convinced by his partner's blithe reassurances.

Cain fixed Malcolm with a stare. "Do you really think I'd be out here if I thought there was any real threat, idiot? Remember what you said before? We deserve better than being paid a paltry sum to be Master Armstead's mail sorters. Once we have those eggs, we'll be able to live off the spoils for the rest of our lives, mate."

The pair made their way to the charming little building that looked like a stone cottage built into the hill itself. Orchard trees, heavy with tempting-looking fruits, rose high all around them. Bushes, also laden with berries of all kinds, rustled gently in the breeze, sending the rich scents of ripened berries floating through the air.

"There isn't even a proper door," Cain snorted as he walked closer. "What idiot doesn't even put a door on a place he wants guarded?"

Malcolm was looking around uneasily. "Our master always said the seemingly unguarded path was often the one leading to quicksand."

Cain scrunched his nose up in disgust. "Of all the things he spouts, you remember that tripe?"

Malcolm frowned.

The pair made their way around twisting corridors into a center circle. The inner corridors were formed of living roots of the tree above, and luminescent moss was providing a soft glow of light everywhere. The way was disorientating, and they passed the very same "window" many times. The windows, too, were formed of roots.

Cain, getting tired of running in circles, pulled out his wand and began to carve his way though.

"What are you _doing_?!" Malcolm hissed.

"Getting to the bottom of things," Cain replied with a sneer. "I'm tired of these bloody mind games."

Malcolm put his hand on Cain's shoulder. "Cain, no," he insisted. "When I complained, I never meant for this. Do I want to be more than an errand boy, yes. But this? Stealing phoenix eggs? They say phoenixes can sense the heart of people. No phoenix is going to want to stay around someone who stole them as chicks and wanted to make money off them!"

Cain grabbed Malcolm by the throat and shoved him up against the roots. "Then we cut their bloody wings so they _can't_ fly away. You've seen what that guy in Knockturn wants for just one feather. A single _feather_! Imagine what he'll give us for an egg or a chick! Now pick up your wand and help me cut through this sodding wall." He shoved Malcolm back against the wall again, going back to cutting through the roots.

Malcolm stared at the floor, his hand reaching for his wand. He stared at the wall Cain was carving, and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the wall. His lips pressed into a line, and his eyes closed. "Expecto Patronum," he said, flicking his wand in an spiral.

A strange insect that resembled the petals of an orchid formed in the vapour and then zoomed out of the open "window" to the outside.

"What the hell are you—" Cain blurted, only to realise that Malcolm was pointing his wand at him. "Who did you send that to?"

Malcolm regarded him levelly. "Our master, to whom our allegiance must be first."

"You _**idiot**_!" Cain yelled.

"I took my vows very seriously," Malcolm said, his entire demeanor having altered from the nervous quivering man into something far more controlled.

Suddenly, Cain used wandless magic to fill the corridor with vivid, blinding sunlight. Malcolm looked away, covering his eyes instinctively, and that was enough.

Cain blasted Malcolm so hard, the smaller wizard violently smashed into the wall, breaking the remainder of it open and exposing the nest beyond.

"We could have been _rich_," Cain seethed at him. "But you just _had_ to be a hero. _Diffindo_!"

Malcolm's body thrashed in agony as blood began seeping through his robes in multiple places.

"Now, you can just bleed out as poor as you ever were," Cain said spitefully. "That is the fate all _traitors_ deserve."

Malcolm stared at him, bright red blood trickling from his mouth. "You would know, wouldn't you, Cain?"

Cain's face darkened and he raised his wand to inflict another spell upon his once-associate. "_Avada_—"

Cain screamed as a wolf's powerful jaws snapped over his wrist, grinding down until the bones snapped like twigs. He reached into his robes and took out a glass flask and flung it into the wolf's face.

The black wolf yelped, face burning with some sort of smoking acid, and let go of his wrist. Cain kicked the wolf to the gut, multiple times, yelling.

Another wolf snarled and leapt at him, and Cain had his wand in his opposing hand, awkwardly pointing it, but desperate to do so. "_Stupefy! STUPEFY! __**STUPEFY!**_" he screamed, hitting the wolf squarely twice to the face after the first one missed. The second black wolf fell to the ground, unmoving, its black eyes filled with pure rage and hate.

Cain cradled his wounded hand and started toward the next, but this time, a huge wolf, larger than he had ever seen, rose up in the shadows of the room. Foamy slaver dripped from his teeth as he snarled.

Cain glanced at the other two wolves and then back to the standing one. Short muzzle. Tufted tail.

Werewolf.

"Fuck!" Cain cursed. "_Incarcerous! Stupefy!_ _Diffindo_!" he yelled in succession.

The wolf nimbly dodged the ropes, but took the stunner directly to the face. The werewolf, however, was not amused, nor was he even slightly disabled. He leapt, his mouth open to deliver his final judgement upon Cain Grimshaw with a mouth full of jagged teeth.

The _Diffindo_ hit the werewolf square in the face, slicing down the werewolf's muzzle and shredding his ears. The wolf yelped in pain, but his eyes glowed a bright gold. Blood dripped from his shaggy head and fur.

Suddenly, the werewolf was joined by an even larger, shaggier animal. I black-furred grizzly bear rose up tall beside him, mouth open wide to expose huge, dripping canines. The grizzly roared, towering high above the not-exactly-small werewolf.

Cain fled, but not before pointing his wand to the ceiling and causing it to start caving in.

The bear and the wolf leapt over the nest, covering the precious eggs with their bodies, shooting glares of hate at the fleeing wizard. Their priorities, however, were clear, even as the rubble, broken tree roots and damp earth rained down upon them and caved in their only way out.

Cain burst out of the corridors and fled out the same way he had come in, running for his life. Unsure regarding how long his distractions would keep the animals from digging their way out, he didn't exactly plan to wait around long enough to find out.

Blood dripped from his cradled hand where one of the black wolves had maimed him. He tried to Apparate.

Unlike before, however, the wards had changed. He couldn't Apparate out.

He stumbled off into the dark of the orchard, determined to get far enough past the wards to where he could successfully Apparate out. He tripped a few times over twisted roots in the dark, but he managed to get back up and continue on. He ran for the tall stone walls that marked the end of Barberry's estate. Just a little farther, and he would be free.

As he neared the stone walls, however, a harsh rumbling sound startled him badly. Stone bricks went flying in all directions as a massive, black paw swatted the wall away as easily as one could rip a single sheet of tissue paper. Wickedly curved claws as long as his forearm glistened in the moonlight. One paw followed another— a shoulder and then a head.

Lips pulled back from a snarling leonine muzzle as steaming, molten saliva dripped from its fangs, setting the nearby grass on fire. One shoulder simply nudged the remains of the broken wall aside before the rest of the beast's massive bulk pushed through. A goat's head bleated, its sideways pupils focusing on him, fire trailing down its horns and down its back.

Cain suddenly felt a hot wetness trailing down his legs. Fear caused him to shake violently despite himself. All his encyclopedic knowledge of offensive and defensive spells flew right out of his mind. Not that they would've done him any good. Chimeras were notorious for their invulnerability to, well... pretty much everything.

Chimera— the likes of which he had never seen, and he… he was no Bellerophon astride Pegasus. Looking into the enraged, utterly terrifying countenance before him, he was pretty sure the stories of Bellerophon were nothing but a sodding lie. No one had managed to actually kill the chimera. The incontrovertible evidence was right before him.

Cain gave a cry of overwhelming fear, stumbling backwards before turning himself to flee back towards the estate— willing to face whatever lay there waiting for him as long as they could beat off the bloody chimera.

He ran.

He did not, however, get very far.

Crushing pain hit him square in his back as a giant paw slapped him into the air. Jaws grabbed him as scalding, molten saliva burned rivers across his skin, causing him to scream in agony. Even so, he saw the familiar figure of Master Armstead running towards him.

"Master," he pleaded. "Help me!"

The white-bearded elder wizard had his wand out, but he did not point it at the chimera. He pointed it to himself.

"I renounce you, Cain Grimshaw," he said. "Betrayer of our most sacred oath. I will protect you no more. It is obvious that you have learned nothing from me, so all that I have taught you is yours no more. Begone from my presence. May your magic fail you forevermore for your willful breaking of our Covenant."

"No! No! Master, please!" Cain screamed as the jaws tightened around him. The goat's head curved around and breathed a pale green gas into his face.

Cain Grimshaw descended into the fathomless blackness of unconsciousness.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Two black wolves, a mud and twig-infested werewolf, and a dusty bear made their way out to greet the giant chimera as he threw the limp body of Cain Grimshaw at the feet of Auror Moody. They licked at his leonine jaws, nuzzling, growling, grunting, and making happy sounds of affection and worship. Each rolled on their backs subserviently, exposing their vulnerable bellies to the chimera in perfect agreement as to who was the boss in their newly-discovered relationship.

The chimera flopped down, running his tongue over each of his eager supplicants, using his giant teeth to efficiently clean the branches and twigs off of them. As Auror Moody grunted, running his wand over the unconscious Cain Grimshaw, Orion flopped over on his side and let them snuggle up against his thick fur.

Regulus was headbutting him excitedly, making bear grunts and roars. Orion yawned and pinned his bear son down with one paw and used him as a giant furry pillow, seemingly unimpressed.

"The nest is fine," Barberry said, coming out of the rookery. "Fawkes and Zabulon are putting it to rights. All of the eggs are undamaged."

"Thank, Merlin," Minerva said as she fixed some of the broken and damaged roots with her wand.

Another Auror was kneeling down beside a stretcher containing Malcolm. "Apprentice Sullivan?" the Auror said clearly. "You're going to be okay. We'll be Apparating you to St Mungo's now that you have been stabilised."

"Master?" the wizard grunted painfully.

The elder wizard with shining silver hair and full beard that made him look like St Nicholas gently took his hand. "You did very well, my apprentice. I'm sorry we did not get your Patronus in time to prevent you from becoming injured."

Malcolm shook his head. "I didn't think he'd actually go through with… I'm sorry, my Master."

Master Armstead squeezed his hand soothingly. "You did everything I asked of you, my brave young man. Rest now, my apprentice. We will speak later when I visit you at St Mungo's."

Malcolm gave a small smile and leaned back against the stretcher with a sigh of relief. Two other Aurors lifted him up and vanished with a sharp crack of Disapparation.

Minerva had Dittany in her hands and was applying it to Tuft's torn ears and his lacerated muzzle. Healing pink flesh swiftly replaced the injured tissue that had been damaged by Cain's spells. After Tuft was cared for, she poured some into a cloth and gently cleaned Hermione's muzzle where the acid had burned into her fur and skin.

Hermione's tongue slipped out and gratefully licked Minerva as her tail beat softly against the ground.

"Hold still, love," Minerva said, dabbing the healing salve on her apprentice's face.

Orion, as if sensing his daughter's squiggling need to move, used his free paw to pin his wolf-daughter to the ground for Minerva.

Both Hermione and Regulus squirmed a little but seemed to realise that resistance would be futile.

Severus belly crawled over to Minerva and lay his head into her lap.

McGonagall smiled down at him, gently rubbing his soft ears.

"Well," she said after a moment. "Time for those chicks to get a move on and start hatching."

Severus licked her hand in gratitude, his tail beating enthusiastically against the ground.

Moody shook his head. "If we're all done coddling each other, someone needs to give me a formal statement about what the hell just happened here tonight."

Sagacity hooted from a nearby tree branch, announcing his august presence to the Auror.

Moody glared at the owl. "So I suppose you're a Hungarian Horntail in disguise, right?"

Sagacity hooted softly.

"Likely story," Moody said, scowling.

Barberry stood up after tending to Tuft. "Tea, Auror Moody. We shall not say anything more until we have tea. You might as well come with us. Orion, my very large and highly destructive friend, you owe me new garden wall."

Orion flicked his snake tail and yawned toothily, exposing all of his very pearly white incisors.

Gilford paused. "Better yet, put in a new gate. I'll call it the Chimera Gate. Be sure it's extra menacing with lots of pointy wrought ironwork.."

Orion rumbled his approval as Regulus, Hermione, Severus, and Tuft all flopped over him in a large furry pile.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**A/N:** Hrm… looks like hatching time is fast approaching! 21 chicks that promise to be quite a handful (wingful?) Hrm, whatever will they do with so many fluffy lintballs underfoot?


	38. 1976 Fluffy Lintballs on the Loose

**A/N:** Fluffy lintballs. 'nuff said!

**Beta Love: **The Dragon and the Rose,

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 38**

**Fluffy Lintballs on the Loose**

**Monday, April 14th, 1975, Full Moon 99%**

"Brother!"

A shake. Another shake.

"Brother, come on!"

"Ugh, I didn't do it," Sirius groaned. "Those knickers weren't mine."

"Brother, I don't want to know about your horrid love life, you mangy cur," Regulus hissed.

"Yrr jsst jeluss," Sirius mumbled, yawning, before stuffing his rumpled head into his pillow and pulling the warm duvet back over himself.

"No, brother, I'm not," Regulus objected, shaking him soundly. Regulus stared at all of the lipstick smears covering his older brother's face, noting that the bright pinkish-red stains were rubbing off onto his pillow.

"You are such a _dog_, brother," Regulus sighed. "I don't even want to think about how many times you've caused Mother to shatter our priceless vases after hearing about how shamelessly you throw your courtship kisses around."

"Uhhg," Sirius moaned. "It's not like that."

"So you actually planned to marry them, and it somehow didn't work out?" Regulus asked, arching a black eyebrow rather dubiously.

"No, I don't want to _marry_ them," Sirius groaned. He sat up, looking rumpled and weary. "I just don't want to find myself thirty one day, locked into a lousy marriage, and having regrets."

"And if one of those kisses happened to seal you into a new bloodline?" Regulus asked.

Sirius rubbed his head. "If I could only be so lucky."

Regulus sighed, sitting next to his brother. "Bro, you were always the one telling me that if it didn't feel right, then it wasn't right. So what's really wrong?"

Sirius sat up straighter in the bed and nudged his shoulder in the general direction of his best mate. "See that bloke over there?"

Regulus looked over at the snoring boy with his arms dangling over both sides of his four-poster bed and his face burrowed so tight into his pillow that it looked like he was attempting to smother himself. "James?"

Sirius nodded. "He knows _exactly_ what he wants, little bro," Sirius said. "He won't give up, ever. He makes a complete idiot of himself in front of the entire school, every day, just to get her to cast him a glance or even throw a book at him."

"You're jealous of a guy who continually makes an arse of himself in public?" Regulus studied his older brother, frowning slightly.

Sirius shook his head. "No. I'm just jealous that he _knows_ what he wants."

"Well it's quite obvious that those witches you've been courting don't exactly know what _they_ want, either."

"Hey! What do you mean by that?" Sirius sputtered.

Regulus shook his head and sighed. "You have quite a reputation, dear brother. Even _mother_ knows of it."

Sirius shrank back in horror and cradled his pillow closely over his abdomen like a shield.

Regulus chuckled. "Come on bro, it's time you learned exactly why Occlumency will be your new best friend."

Sirius sat up straight and alert dog ears popped up out of his hair.

Regulus shook his head and chuckled. "Seriously, brother. You _really _need to get some help with your Animagus form.

Eyes widening, Sirius felt his head and groaned. "Not again!"

Suddenly, he seemed to realise something. "Hey, how exactly did _you_ get up here, Regulus?"

Regulus just grinned at him lopsidedly and jumped up onto the nearby window sill. "Through the window, of course," he said and then promptly leapt out, immediately disappearing from sight.

Sirius bolted to the window and looked down, fearing the worst.

Regulus just waved at him from the ground below. _How the— ?_

Sirius quickly threw on some clothes and scampered out the dormitory door in a rare moment of reason, figuring that throwing himself out of a window was probably not the best of ideas, even if his baby brother had somehow managed to do it without seriously injuring or killing himself.

Down below, Regulus scratched Zabulon on the chin as the phoenix changed the color of his feathers. The phoenix had previously blended seamlessly into the background, but now swiftly morphed back into his usual startling red and orange plumage with a head crest that was starting to look very much like his "father's."

"Thanks for the lift, my dear feathered accomplice," Regulus chuckled.

The young phoenix warbled happily, laying his head against Regulus' cheek.

"At least my brother didn't throw himself out the window," the younger Black commented smugly.

Zab let out a happy string of agreeable notes.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I think I'm in love," Sirius cooed at the tiny golden chick in his lap. The fluffy chick eagerly took all the fruit Sirius could stuff in his mouth. His companion, a little white chick with a shaggy black mop of a head crest and sooty black rings around his eyes begged for his share, and Sirius could only oblige him with a dumbfounded look of pure adoration on his face. "If you'd just told me years ago that this would be my reward for learning Occlumency, I would have busted my tail to learn it a long time ago!"

"Well, at least you got the tail part right, brother," Regulus laughed as he pointed to Sirius' enthusiastically wagging furry appendage.

Sirius slumped and groaned aloud. "At least I'm not sporting an enormous rack of moose antlers and filled with the irrepressible desire to ram my head against anyone who even _looks_ at Lily Evans."

The tiny golden chick in his lap suddenly chirped and his head crest formed into antler shapes. The black mop-headed chick promptly imitated him.

Sirius gave a joyous barking laugh. "Look, little brother! We have a rising Quidditch star! He's a right Prongs."

A pink chick pegged Sirius right on the nose and cheeped hungrily.

"Ow!" he complained. "Pink menace! Where did you come from?"

The chick pecked him again.

Sirius surrendered his plum to the hungry chick. "Whoa, whoa, little one, not the seed."

The entire plum disappeared.

Sirius stared at the pink chick.

She cheeped innocently at him and opened her mouth wide.

"Merlin… you just ate a whole… where in the _world_ are you packing away all of that?"

All three chicks made the telltale hacking noise that always led to a very disgusting end. Three plum stones pegged Sirius squarely on the forehead even as the chicks opened their beaks wide for more food.

Alas, poor Sirius was out cold.

* * *

Eighteen fluffy chicks were covering Sirius' passed out body. All of them were fed, preened, and looking greatly rotund, thanks to being stuffed with enough fruit mash to make an typical fruit orchard owner very sad indeed. Some were dozing. Some were trying to nest in Sirius' shaggy black hair, and some had burrowed underneath his robes to keep warm, complaining that he wasn't the proper temperature by putting their cold little feet against his skin.

Sadly, he was in no condition to respond, having spent the last few days constantly stuffing fruit into a multitude of hungry little beaks. He didn't complain even once, however. He seemed to enjoy himself greatly.

Minerva had a honey-coloured chick sitting in her teacup with just her black eyes peering out over the edge. The Animagus had lifted her cup to take a drink only to find her tea was staring back at her with bright black eyes.

"Well, I know what your name is, my darling little Teacup," Minerva chuckled, pouring herself a fresh cup of tea.

A silver-white chick was trying to make a nest out of cast-off socks, and Minerva decided to name that one Pearl due to her lovely shimmering colour.

Barberry dubbed a somewhat bleached-looking tan chick Parchment, after he made himself a comfy nest among his scrolls and started to worry on the edges of each one with his beak.

Hermione named a red chick with brown, fluffy shoulders that looked rather like a fur collar, Viktor. He had black eyes the colour of lamp soot, and his head crest was an even deeper shade of black. The white chick with the black mop for a head crest was christened Harry. The bright gold-coloured chick that liked to sprint around the room and hide from everyone was dubbed Snitch. Ironically, both Harry and Viktor happily chased the little golden Snitch around relentlessly until all three ended up exhausted and panting in a pile-up somewhere utterly random. Viktor, much like his namesake, had this strange propensity to dangle upside-down on things whenever he stopped to perch on something, ever the acrobatic little show-off.

Agrimony named herself by nesting in Barberry's agrimony plants, blending in with their bright yellow flowers and green stems with her equally yellow fluff and bright green feet. The pink chick that had oh-so-lovingly hacked up a stone for Sirius was named Amortentia due to her rosy pink fluff, bright red neck feathers, tail, and obnoxiously loving personality. She never met a wizard or witch she didn't like.

Tailkinker had a tail with an array of rainbow colours. She proved herself quite the mischief-maker, prying the labels off of Master Barberry's herbs and affixing them onto other bottles. Severus had eyed the bottle of "doxy wings" that looked suspiciously like blueberries and was immediately skeptical. Tailkinker crowed from atop the potion shelves, laughing like a kookaburra in an old Australian gum tree.

Tailkinker found an eager accomplice in a reddish-orange headed chick, who seemed very apt to pulling pranks as well. Shoelaces would disappear. Wicks from candles would mysteriously vanish. Shoes would be filled with marbles, biscuits and candies would mysteriously go missing from their jars, random victims would wake up to find worms or other creepy-crawlies in their hair. That little red-headed menace was swiftly dubbed Forge by Hermione. After hearing her reasoning, everyone seemed to agree it was appropriate.

A green chick that looked like he was covered in foliage and had a brown, messy head crest. Remus named him Pan from one of his favourite nighttime stories his mum read to him before he had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback.

A pale, white chick with an elegant black feathered crest and a deep sapphire blue tail edged with silver became Elrond, thanks to Hermione's secret love affair with J.R.R. Tolkien. The chick would boss all the other chicks around, holding his head high as he lorded over them all. Every so often, Severus would slip and call him Lucius.

One unfortunate chick discovered Barberry's half-empty shot glass of Ogden's firewhisky and proceeded to get extremely inebriated. He peeped loudly, slamming into things, falling off other things, and randomly turning different shades of pink while he did so. That unfortunate chick was named Ogden, and all whisky was immediately moved to a secret phoenix-proof location.

Bubbles got his name from his tendency to invite himself into the bathtub. The bright yellow chick would float happily on the surface, playing tag with the soap suds with his neon orange beak.

Peppa was a shy little chick, all white save for the perfect round red spots that covered her body like pepperoni slices on a pizza. Thanks to Sirius, they soon discovered that she adored sneaking bits of cheese off his sandwiches, and she liked to burrow herself into a fresh, warm loaf of bread, hollowing it out so she could sleep inside. All loaves were always carefully checked before the breadknife came out after that rather alarming discovery.

The light grey phoenix that would shyly sing for Minerva every time the elder Animagus came in, became Jean. Hermione had a soft spot for the name, given her past, and the little phoenix seemed to adore her new name, singing even more sweetly when she heard Minerva calling her by it.

Razz acquired his name after having helped himself to every last one of the raspberries off of Master Barberry's prize raspberry bush. His feathers were a bright red to match, and, oddly enough, he even _smelled_ like raspberries after having devoured his way all over Barberry's bush.

Habanero, the bright orange and yellow chick with white teardrop spots, was the only chick that preferred to eat the peppers out of the vegetable garden instead of the fruit that his nestmates preferred. His favourites were, of course, the hot peppers. Hungarian hot peppers, chili peppers, habaneros, jalapenos, ghost peppers, scotch bonnet peppers and Thai red dragon peppers all disappeared from the garden until only the sweet red, yellow and green bell peppers remained. Severus made the comment that his very presence in the room brought water to the eyes of everyone there, far worse than any species of onion ever created, and they were going to be practically drowning in phoenix tears from the rest of the clutch that seemed all too eager to scamper away from their enthusiastic pepper-eating brother.

Twister got his name from both his stormy grey colour and white stripes, making him resemble a small angry cloud. He tore across Barberry's garden, spinning madly in tight circles until everyone had to look away or risk becoming dizzy and disgracing themselves by passing out.

Dandy, a sweet little white chick with perpetually puffy feathers and down, looked like a dandelion gone to seed. She would sit in Minerva's flower box and sing sweetly, mimicking the various bird songs she heard all around her. Whenever someone she didn't know came around, she would instantly silence herself and freeze, looking very much like the dandelion she was named for. Then, once the coast was clear, she would resume her sweet songs.

The last chick was a lazy royal purple male with quite a roly-poly look about him. His feathers were perpetually puffed out, making him look even more perfectly round. If he wasn't sleeping, he was eating and if he wasn't eating, he was sleeping. Remus promptly dubbed him Tuit, saying his father would always irritate his mum by telling her he would do something that she had repeatedly asked him to do "when he got around to it." Elrond seemed to take personal offense to chubby Tuit's very existence, and would peck his nestmate mercilessly until the purple chick was forced to hide himself away in random unused crannies that had a wealth of old dust and dirt in them, just to get his prim and proper sibling to leave him alone.

There were so many chicks running about, it was hard to see where one was coming or going. It was also very difficult to keep the chicks in one place for their own safety. The chicks liked to gather under the adults for warmth, but once they were sufficiently warmed up, they were immediately underfoot again.

Thankfully, the humans had a secret weapon no phoenix chick could resist: Orion Black. While Sirius was the perch of choice when he was passed out, it was deemed impractical to knock him out cold whenever they needed to gather the chicks together. Severus seemed to think it was an idea well worth pursuing, but that expressed sentiment had earned him a swift peck on the rump from Hermione, the disgruntled she-phoenix.

Orion, however, all he had to do was fall asleep, and all twenty-one of his little grand-chicks would gather all over his sleeping body, quickly picking out prime cuddling spots and joining him in his nap. Denebola seemed resigned to the notion of sharing. Walburga, who often woke before her husband, would soon find that he also gathered phoenix chicks _wherever_ he was sleeping, and so she often opened her eyes to find their marital bed was covered in a multitude of Orion-seeking little lintballs. Walburga blamed Orion for having always thrown out gratuitous warmth like her own, personal heating unit, but Orion simply shrugged. He wasn't complaining, and the chicks all seemed to be on their very best behaviour around him— even Forge and Tailkinker, which was no small miracle unto itself.

Hermione and Regulus strongly suspected that phoenixes were instinctively drawn to chimeras in whatever form they happened to be in, but Severus wondered aloud that if that was the case, why didn't random phoenixes just show up and perch on Orion from time to time? Answering that question was eventually deemed to be too much like work, and so they all agreed to simply accept it and move on. Some of them, however, accepted a bit more silently than others.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Well, my son," Orion said in the ominously quiet tone that always caused Sirius' blood to freeze in his veins. "I had no idea that your relationship with Magnolia Mayweather was quite so far along. It seems her father decided it was time to speak with me about dowries and other such formalities."

Sirius swallowed so hard that the sound seemed to echo.

Orion steepled his fingers together and drummed them against his desk. "He wishes me to consider a joint ownership in his hippogriff breeding business instead of the typical galleons, horses, and assorted magical trinkets. So, tell me, who is this young witch whose fancy you have managed to enrapture so thoroughly that marriage is already on the table?

Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times, resembling the ornamental koi that his mother kept in the garden pond.

"He was concerned, of course, that his wife's being Muggle would adversely affect the outcome of the engagement," Orion recalled. "I told Mr Mayweather that, as long as the kisses were both given and received with mutual acceptance, I would not stand in the way of… love, wherever you might happen to find it."

Sirius fidgeted nervously.

"Seeing as the girl is," Orion paused, his eyes sliding over and seeming to stare into Sirius' soul, "pregnant. I need not tell you that whatever choice you may have thought you had is no longer. I will have not have any child of our most Ancient and Noble House of Black being shamefully born out of wedlock."

Sirius paled. His skin went from the red of total embarrassment to a horrorstruck, bloodless white.

Orion stared into his son's eyes, brokering no quarter. "You will present yourself to Healer Augustina Pye at St Mungo's for a paternity spell tomorrow. She will be expecting you. If all is confirmed, I will see to the negotiations with her father on the matter of dowry. Seeing that she _is_ pregnant," Orion said, watching his elder son shrink down ever smaller, "I will be considerably more lenient with regard to the negotiations."

"Father, I—"

"You _will_ be married the moment my signature on the documents is inked and the wax sealed, Sirius Orion Black," Orion informed his son, his voice a low whisper that was as terrifyingly effective as a Sonorus charm. "For as assuredly as your middle name links you to mine, I _will_ see you face your responsibilities at last. This time there will be. No. Compromise. Whatsoever. Am I _clear_ enough for you?"

"Yes, father," Sirius said, casting his head down as low as he could without smashing his skull onto the floor. "I shall go to St. Mungo's first thing in the morning."

"Get out of my sight," Orion seethed, his dismissal coming out in a low, deadly hiss that spoke of absolute fury and severe disappointment.

Sirius backpedaled from the room faster than if a fire demon had been after him.

As the door to the room closed, Orion growled, wickedly sharp black claws sprouting from his nail beds as his face twisted into a leonine muzzle of pure fury. He swatted the table next to him, flinging it across the room with a crashing sound, yet the sound of the table's destruction was muffled under his roar of rage.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"You did… _what_?" James blurted in total shock.

Sirius stared blankly into his drink. "I may have gotten Magnolia Mayweather pregnant."

"Sirius… that's like a binding marriage contract, mate!"

"I know!" Sirius moaned miserably. "Merlin, I know!"

"You can't tell me you actually _forgot_ the contraceptive charm?" James prodded, aghast.

"I cast it, usually," Sirius told him, "but sometimes she did right before she dragged me off into a broom closet."

James narrowed his eyes. "You never actually _saw_ her cast it?"

"No, why should I?" It's not as if I announce it to anyone when I cast it on myself. She said she took care of it."

"And you believed her."

"And… I believed her."

"You are such an _idiot_, mate," James sighed. "So many people to choose from and take your bloody sweet time with, and you fall into bed with the first witch who makes eyes at you. Repeatedly."

Sirius slumped.

James scrubbed at his hair with his hands in agitation. "_Why_ Magnolia Mayweather? You wouldn't even give that little witch the time of the day last year. You said she was trying way too hard to get herself hitched. Why would you even approach someone like that?"

Sirius stared thoughtfully into his drink.

"She wasn't like all the others," he said. "So very prim and proper, trying to out-Pureblood the Pureblood." Sirius shook his head. "Others, they— they always treat me like they're trying to court Lucius Bloody Malfoy."

"I still think that whole dance is pretty funny," James admitted with a slight smirk.

Sirius groaned. "No, it's _horrible_. You just think it's funny because no one even bothers to approach you like that due to your very obvious unyielding devotion to one Lily Evans."

James tilted his jaw determinedly. "She _will _come around. Eventually."

Sirius sighed. "Maybe when she runs out of shoes and books to chuck at your head, and she gets tired of dumping buckets of neon-coloured slime all over you from afar."

James shook his head. "She wouldn't pay the slightest bit of attention to me if she wasn't interested."

"That's like being a Dark wizard and saying the Aurors are watching you because you've got _fabulous_ hair." Sirius stared him in the eye unblinkingly.

Sirius sighed, downing the last of his drink. "I didn't feel _anything_," he confessed quietly.

James made a strange face at that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Sirius explained, "that the firstborn son of my father's branch of the Ancient and Noble House of Black can't even feel the magic of a courtship bond forming. I couldn't _feel_ it at all, James. This pregnancy… I couldn't feel the marriage bond form. I couldn't feel _anything_. I'm… I must be _defective_, somehow. My sister, she knew the very instant she bonded with Lucius. Regulus? He can charm bees to bring him honey— willingly, nay, eagerly. Thousands of the little buzzing buggers flying their tiny arses off to bring him fresh honey still in the combs, just to make him happy. But me_? _What the hell can _I_ do? Sprout silly dog ears and a wagging tail? Always know what direction is north? Great. What good is that? Spectacularly fuck up Animagus magic? Get some girl bloody _**pregnant**_ and not even realise it? The contraceptive charm? I should have realized I never _felt_ the charm take. I didn't feel it. Maybe I _couldn't_ feel it because something is missing in me, mate."

James nudged his friend's shoulder gently. "Come on. Mum fixed up our guest room for you. She even did it herself, didn't bother about asking the house-elves. That's love, mate. Sometimes you don't have to feel it to know it's there. Tomorrow, I'll go with you to face the results. Whatever happens, mate, we'll see it through."

Sirius closed his eyes and nodded. "Thanks."

James smiled at him just as a glorious rack of antlers sprouted from his hair, and his head was promptly weighted down to the floor. "Merlin's bloody pants, _help me_!" he cried, his arms flailing wildly.

Sirius put his hand on his shoulder, cracking a small grin. "I'm here for ya, mate." Sirius pulled out the miniature hand saw he had stashed in his robes just for this particular occasion.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Ah, Mr Black," Augustina Pye said as she glided soundlessly back into the waiting room. "Thank you for waiting. I fear that I must ask you to be a bit more patient with me, as your… fiancée has yet to arrive to the scheduled appointment."

James and Sirius exchanged glances. "W… what does that mean for—"

Healer Pye shook her head. "I cannot run the proper spells without the both of you together. It was my understanding that she would be here waiting for you.

"I'm very sorry, Lord Black," a tall, thin man with mousy brown hair apologised as he trailed him into the room. "I have no idea what happened. Magnolia was told to be here. She said she had to be up anyway to purchase some… necessary items for the pregnancy, and she would be here directly after. Believe me, is it not just you who wishes to be over and done with this unfortunate situation."

Orion, despite being slightly shorter in stature in comparison to the very tall man text to him, still somehow managed to make the other look rather smaller than he was. His grey eyes scanned the room like a lion eyeing the zebra herds for any sign of potential weakness. Sirius immediately made himself look as small and unthreatening as possible, and even James quietly bowed his head in instinctive deference to the regal and imposing figure of Orion Black.

Orion stared thoughtfully at Sirius, seemingly reassured by his son's presence precisely where he was supposed to be, unlike young Magnolia Mayweather. "Yet, you called the Aurors to locate your missing daughter."

Mr Mayweather took in a slow breath. "It's not like her to not answer my Patronus at once. She can't cast one herself, but she was always good about promptly getting to an owl post to send word if anything was wrong or if she would be delayed for any reason. Or, she would ask if someone could send a Patronus for her. Something must have happened to my dear little girl."

"You may be satisfied in allowing the Aurors to do their jobs without assistance; however, I am not, Mr Mayweather," Orion said. He tapped his index finger against his high collar, and a scarlet gem glowed from its setting.

There was a rumble in the air just moments before a loud crack signalled the arrival of a very stern-looking Auror Klaus Shattenjäger. Beside him were Hermione, Severus, and Remus in their respective forms. Each of the Animagi wore their distinctive bright orange collars, signalling that they were there in their official capacity as members of the Auror Animagus Rescue Team.

"Lord Black," Shattenjäger greeted with a bow, and the three Animagi beside him were silent, save the tilt of their head in deference.

Sirius' eyes widened along with James'.

"I received your request earlier this morning, Lord Black," Shattenjäger stated. "Do you have an object you wish us to trace?"

Orion nodded, jutting his chin at Mr Mayweather.

The thin man startled, and handed Shattenjäger a silver comb. "This is her favourite comb. She keeps it at home because she doesn't want to risk losing it. It was given to her by her great-grandmother."

Shattenjäger took the comb delicately between his fingers. He lowered it to Remus, who sniffed it.

"Severus, the tracking spell for the magic," the veteran Auror directed.

Severus nodded his head, closing his eyes. A shimmering aura surrounded the Bateleur eagle, and it moved to surround the comb.

"Hermione, enhance the trace," Shattenjäger directed.

Hermione spread her wings and warbled, fire surrounding her body as she concentrated, and the aura of magic around the comb flashed brightly.

"I smell her," Sirius said.

"What?" James asked.

"I can smell her… Magnolia," Sirius said. "Strongly from that comb. It smells like pickles, shaving cream, and treacle tarts."

Remus transformed back into a human and caught Shattenjäger's eye.

"Go ahead, Remus."

"Excuse me, sir, but when I smell her scent, it doesn't smell that way to me at all. She smells like… creamed herring, hair tonic, and black licorice," Remus detailed.

Mr Mayweather looked absolutely appalled.

Shattenjäger eyed Sirius consideringly. "I remember you, young Lord Black. "I seem to recall seeing you at the Emergency Animagus Reversal Wing at St. Mungo's."

At the very mention of the incident in question, Sirius promptly sprouted a pair of dog ears and a tail.

Shattenjäger shook his head and chuckled lowly. "Well, that confirms that. He pulled out a small box from his coat and opened it. "Humour me, lad, and smell this for me. I know exactly what it is, and so do these three. I want to know what you smell."

Sirius fidgeted with embarrassment, but leaned over and sniffed the open box. He grinned. "You're tricking me. That's my sister's box."

Shattenjäger smiled. "No, lad. It is not. What do you smell?"

Sirius blushed a little. "That smell you get right after a rain. It's like nothing else."

"Petrichor," Shattenjäger answered. "Fascinating. Remus what do you smell?"

"Woodsmoke, autumn leaves, and damp earth," Remus answered.

Hermione buried her head in Severus' feathers. He put his wing around her in a strangely human-like comforting gesture.

"Very interesting," Shattenjäger said. "What is in the box, young Lord Black, is a vial of phoenix tears for emergencies. Each of us on the Auror Animagus Rescue team carries one. All of it donated by a very particular phoenix. Might you guess which one?"

Sirius' eyes widened. "My sister's."

Shattenjäger smiled. "Indeed. I think, somehow, what you are smelling is not a true personal scent like Remus, Severus, or even what our dull human noses can smell. What you are picking up is the scent of an individual's _**magic**_."

James beamed. "You see, mate? I knew you weren't some magical failure!"

Orion lifted a bemused brow at his son.

Sirius hushed James with a swift elbow to his ribs.

Sirius looked at Shattenjäger hopefully, his heart in his eyes. "You mean, you've seen this before?"

The senior Auror shook his head with amusement. "Every time I look in a mirror, lad. There is a reason I head the tracking team."

Sirius looked so happy and excited that he could burst. Instead, however, he seemed to vibrate so rapidly that his edges began to blur.

_Fwoop!_

In Sirius' place was a giant, black bloodhound with luminous grey eyes. He barked, tail wagging furiously.

Unseen by most in the room, Orion's lips briefly turned upward in a small, tight, smile.

Hermione warbled happily, setting herself on fire with celebratory silver flames.

Shattenjäger stood up straight. "You three, follow the trace. Take Snuffles here with you."

Hermione and Severus leapt off Shattenjäger's shoulders and locked talons in mid air. Remus growl-barked as he reassumed his Animagus form. He wagged his tail and chomped on Snuffles' tail.

Sirius yipped loudly.

_**CRACK! **_They were gone.

Suddenly there was a cry in the room as James' body began to vibrate rapidly around the edges as well.

_Fwoop!_

One gargantuan black and tan moose took up the space where he once was. Wide hazel eyes looked both excited and embarrassed.

"Mfmfmffffffffff!" A muffled cry came from underneath James' impressive bulk.

The moose Animagus lowered his head to look under his long, awkward, splayed forelegs. His hindquarters tried to lift up too, but his hind legs abruptly gave out from under him, his giant hooves all going in multiple directions. His enormous rack of antlers spanned so wide that they jammed into the cramped waiting room walls.

Orion and Shattenjäger stared down to see that Mr Mayweather had a rather large moose of a problem sitting squarely on top of him.

Healer Augustina Pye, having been proven completely unflappable, pointed her wand at James and levitated him, notifying the skin-and-bone mending units that Mr Mayweather was on his way and in dire need of their talents.

Shattenjäger sniffed and glanced in Orion's direction without batting an eye. "I suppose I should fill out the appropriate paperwork for the Animagus Registration Office."

Orion stroked his chin with his fingers. "I'll handle the fees. I'm sure the Potters would prefer their son's status as a new Animagus be legalized after all the trouble he has brought upon himself over the years."

The moose that was James gave a strange, whining moan as he floated awkwardly in the air.

Healer Pye released him from the levitation as they removed Mr Mayweather from the room. James went crashing down to the floor with a strangled bleat.

"Mr Prongs," she announced, perfectly deadpan. "If you insist on becoming a moose in my waiting room, please remove yourself to a larger one that is more able to accommodate your greatly increased space requirements, or I shall be forced to shrink you down to a more manageable size."

James tried to move to do as she asked, but his antlers were still stuck firmly in the walls. He turned to Shattenjäger with desperate, pleading eyes.

"Think of the most peaceful time in your life, Prongs," Shattenjäger directed, amused by the nickname enough to use it. It must be peaceful. Content. You can even make something up, but it must be strong."

The moose stilled, still awkwardly entangled by his own legs and the walls around him. His breathing slowed. His body stopped struggling.

Crackle... crackle...

_Fwoop!_

A red-faced James Potter landed face first, his body sprawled awkwardly across the floor.

"Ow," he moaned piteously.

"Out!" Healer Pye ordered, calling for someone to come look at Potter's obviously broken nose, which was bleeding profusely all over her previously-spotless waiting room floor.

Orion and Shattenjäger watched the blushing boy walk out of the room with his head bowed in deep shame and total embarrassment.

"They have a lovely tea room one floor up," Orion said conversationally.

"Lead the way, Lord Black," Klaus answered. "I have a feeling we will both be needing its succor when the young folks return with little Miss Mayweather."

Orion's lips quirked upward as he swept from the debris-covered post-Prongs apocalypse room, his cloak fluttering majestically behind him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Daddy!" Magnolia cried pitifully. "Daddy, please!"

Mr Mayweather sat up in the hospital bed, his face almost purple with barely-suppressed fury. "You shame me, daughter," he said formally, removing his sleeve from her feverish grasp. "You brought shame to our family name. You accepted and consummated a relationship with one wizard, and then attempted to deceive another wizard who gave you the Kisses into believing he was the father of your unborn child. You insult me, your father, by pulling the wool over my eyes. You insult the Black family with whom I had been negotiating dowry and marriage at your behest! If it wouldn't break your mother, I would disown you from our family this instant!

"No, Daddy, no!" Magnolia moaned. "Please!"

"Did you think they would just take you into their bosom and welcome you into their family without a confirmation of the purity of your bond? You expect them to simply take your word for it after countless families have been duped by imposters whose only goal is to weasel their way into wealth and a powerful family name?" Mr Mayweather seethed, his teeth grinding together. "Do you even _realise_ what Lord Black is able to do to us for even attempting what you did? Every last thing we own could be taken away in our dishonor. No one could look at me without knowing what my daughter tried to do— what I unknowingly _helped_ you to do."

Magnolia was crying hard, her face blotchy with tears and further marred by trails of mucus.

"I have coddled you for long enough, Magnolia," Mr Mayweather announced. "Actually, for far _too_ long. You will now attend your husband by magic for his remainder of his stay at St Mungo's and until he has recovered fully from his fall from his broom, however long that may take. In fact, I believe that your little attempt to use a hedge wizard's spell from Witches Weekly to break a full marital bond was the most likely the cause of his unfortunate fall. After he recovers enough for you to be properly and formally wed, if he will even have you, you will be married officially by a representative of the Ministry of Magic. However, know that he is well within his rights to refuse you _and_ your child now, and if he does, you may be spending your first years as a mother in Azkaban, charged with nearly causing his death."

"I never meant for this to happen!" Magnolia wailed.

"Your penance starts now, daughter," Mr Mayweather said, wincing as his bones and flesh were not quite fully healed. "You will go prostrate yourself in front of both Lord Black and his son and beg for their forgiveness. See if they will have mercy on us and not take everything I have worked so hard to provide both you and your mother. You will then apologise to the Auror team that wasted countless hours trying to find you, believing that you'd been kidnapped or dragged off by Dark Wizards, and you will do whatever any of them request of you as restitution. Until this is done, you will get out of my sight."

Magnolia whimpered, but her father resolutely turned his head away.

She sniffled, rubbed her face with her sleeve, and slinked her way out of his hospital room.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Alec Selwyn?" James whispered as they gathered around Master Barberry's garden. "I knew something had to have been wrong. He's the best Chaser I've ever seen. He does things on brooms that make _me_ jealous! He can do the two-fingered stand in mid-flight!"

"He fell during a practice when Ravenclaw had the field all to themselves. Marcus told me that one minute he was up in the air, expertly performing his drills, and the next minute he had crashed hard on the ground, his broom shattered in pieces, and his head cracked open on a support beam of one of the towers on the pitch," Sirius recalled. "He's been at Mungo's for months now. People were saying he'd have to resume next term because of all the work he's missed."

Suddenly, an entire orchard of phoenix chicks went running by, peeping and flapping their wings wildly as they were chased by a brown blur of frenetic squeakiness. There was a splash nearby as one fuzzy otter dove into the water of Barberry's fountain and all the chicks dove in after her, floating on the surface of the water with their heads under the water, searching for Hermione.

"Your turned her into an otter again?" James accused Sirius.

Sirius sputtered. "_**No!**_ Merlin, mate, not after all that detention we suffered on McGonagall's watch…"

Severus slid his eyes over to Remus suspiciously.

Remus buried his head behind his copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

Severus' gaze bored into Remus through the paper, and then he turned his head back to the book on Potions theory that he was currently reading.

"So, to make a long story a bit shorter: Magnolia got pregnant, Alec tried to propose, and she… tried to break their bond with some barmy spell from Witches Weekly?" James asked.

"That magazine is utter rubbish," Severus commented, curling his lip in derision. "We've had to cite them repeatedly over the legitimacy of their stories and the supposed spells, charms and such within their publication. It never fails, they always end up doing something humiliating to anyone who is foolish enough to try them."

"One of them caused a bunch of witches to break out in glowing purple spots when they used a spell to cure acne," Remus said. "Another made them sprout loads of yeti hair on their legs and arms that was astonishingly resistant to every depilatory spell ever invented."

James and Sirius looked completely torn between laughter and horror. "That sounds like a joke, mate. A bad one, maybe, but a joke none the less…"

"The attempt to break the bond didn't actually affect the bond at all, but it distracted Alec enough to cause him to crash his broom," Remus added, shaking his head.

"So, when Alec ended up at Mungo's," James surmised, "Magnolia realised she was pregnant without anyone there to support her pregnancy, panicked, and so she tried to find someone who could give her baby a good family name and substantial wealth."

"Enter one singularly _stupid_ Sirius Black," Sirius sighed. "Idiot extraordinaire."

"It almost worked," Sirius admitted quietly a moment later. "I was so afraid of my father's wrath, I was going to march right up to the Ministry, present myself as the father of Magnolia's child, and fill out a marriage certificate on the spot."

"Thank Merlin for the entire Pureblood family knee-jerk reaction paternity test tradition," James said. "I never thought I'd be thanking Pureblood tradition for anything, Snuffles, but I'd be thanking a lot of things I didn't think I would after this."

Sirius sighed and nodded. "Father is appeased and greatly relieved. He wants to talk to Regulus and I "very soon" which worries me, but he seems much happier now that he knows I wasn't purposely shirking my duties to a marriage bond."

"At least now you know why you couldn't sense the magic bond," James added.

"Auror Shattenjäger said that those like you and him, you gain the ability to scent out magical signatures, but at the cost of something else?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded. "That's how he said it, yeah," he replied. "He said over the summer, he will help me hone the ability now that I've agreed to train under him. I'll be working with another Auror too, who is really interested in the tracking ability since he can't have Shattenjäger all the time. Moogie?"

"Moody," Remus informed his friend, chuckling.

"I"ll get to wear one of those stunning orange collars," Sirius moaned.

"At least you have a purpose," James pouted. "What good is a moose to anyone?"

"Holding down prisoners," Severus quipped.

James slumped. "Glorious."

"I feel bad for her, really," Sirius said, earning quite a few odd looks. Sirius sighed. "I admit I set myself up to be trapped by acting irresponsibly. She was irresponsible too, when she foolishly tried to run away from duty. I did the same thing by giving away my courtship kisses, never intending to marry any of them."

James shook his head. "Not the same thing, Snuffles. Yeah, I mean, you were being a total dick by leading the girls on, but I don't doubt that, had you really, honestly, been bonded to one of them, you wouldn't have shirked that responsibility. Alec didn't, and he's a student, just like us. It was horrible, but still, it wasn't the same."

Sirius stared at James in surprise. "When did _you_ get so wise?"

"Sometime between getting my prongs stuck in two walls and landing right on Mr Mayweather," James mumbled, blushing.

"Ah, so fairly recent then," Sirius sighed with relief. "Now I don't feel quite so bad about not noticing it before.

James transformed into a moose and bleated loudly, lowering his enormous antlers in challenge. Sirius yipped, transforming into a bloodhound. James drove Sirius around Master Barberry's garden sounding like they were trying to obliterate each other or the garden, whichever came first.

"Should we try to stop them?" Remus inquired in between loud crashing noises.

Severus flipped a page disinterestedly. "No, they'll soon find out what we did after knocking over that statuary on our first year here."

Remus grinned mischievously. "I hope they studied up on their mending charms and herbology"

Severus' lips curved into a tight smile as a brown blur of fur squeaked her way across the path in front of them and then disappeared into the hedges. Twenty-one little fluffballs peeped excitedly and chased after her in hot pursuit. "At least the chicks will surely sleep through the night after all this vigorous exercise."

Remus grinned, burying his nose in his copy of _The Daily Prophet_. "Mission accomplished, mate."

* * *

**A/N:** Anyone actually worried that Sirius would have to step up as a dad? Prongs and Snuffles are alive and well. Horray!

Weekend/Mon-Tue is mad studying time for me, so don't be surprised if nothing gets worked on for a while!

I leave you with this final mental image: Snuffles passed out in the garden after his chase (or being chased by Prongs) with twenty-one fuzz buckets perched all over his body, or, if it pleases you, Prongs with twenty-one lint balls perched on his antlers weighing him down. heh.

You're welcome!


	39. 1977 Calm Before the Storm

**A/N: **There is a little mix of everything in this chapter. Apparently, someone seems to have developed a lintball allergy from the last chapter. My condolences. There will be more lintball antics in this chapter, I fear. Sorry, not sorry.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 39**

**1977 Year Six — The Calm Before the Storm**

_Friday, August 27th, 1977 — Waxing crescent 6%_

Elrond warbled cheerfully from Hermione's shoulder, snuggling up to her neck and preening her hair happily. Amortentia sang sweetly from her other shoulder, rocking back and forth with enthusiasm. Razz sang a reply to Amortentia and then stuffed a raspberry in Severus' ear.

Severus made a face and sighed.

Hermione smiled as she placed a warm towel over Severus' face. "At least they aren't hungry all the time anymore."

"I think I preferred them hungry and less apt to stuff fruit into my ear canal," Severus muttered from under the towel. "Instead of being small, rotund lintballs, they look like gangly, half-grown lintballs."

Hermione chuckled. "It could be a dragonfruit, Severus. Count yourself lucky. You know our Masters think the reason they are taking their time to mature, even more than Zabulon, was that the entire next was being used for… experiments."

She could practically feel the seething energy radiating off of her friend. Severus sighed. "I know. I want them to be able to enjoy their childhood. I just can't imagine two phoenixes having enough stamina to keep up with all twenty-one hungry beaks for so long."

Hermione shook her head. "Who knows, Severus? Maybe if Fawkes hadn't had his nest taken hostage, they would have hatched out differently instead of all at once. Maybe they knew now was the time to hatch together because that was the time they were meant to hatch, that it was dangerous to wait any longer?" Hermione scratched her head. "Hard to say."

"Well, phoenixes do seem to be the masters of embracing opportunity," Severus observed.

Hermione chuckled. "I suppose." She ran a straight razor across the whetstone with long, practiced strokes. With each stroke, the chicks sang a ringing note that harmonised.

"Shaving time, hrm?" Remus chuckled as he walked in collecting their combined student robes. "Ah, you left your pins on your collar, Severus."

Severus grunted from under the warm towels. He waved his hand in the air, and suddenly all the phoenix chicks swarmed Remus.

"Ack!" Remus cried, staggering with the weight of the laundry and phoenix chicks. He quickly picked the pins off and gave one to each chick. The chicks plucked them up and returned them to Severu' palm. He palmed the pins with a chuckle.

Remus glared. "You've trained them to fetch your pins?"

"You've trained them to mob Potter and weigh his head down by perching on his antlers," Severus noted from under his warm towels.

Remus averted his eyes. "That's hardly the same thing."

"Hn," Severus grunted. "At least my training was useful. Though, I suppose if I ever need to weigh Potter down to keep him from doing anything overly stupid, maybe your training will prove useful, after all."

Remus muttered under his breath as he stuffed all the robes into a laundry basket. "Apprentice Verne wants to show me her new cleaning solution. Two drops in an entire sinkful of cold water and the clothes come out like they are brand new. She's going to teach me the formula in exchange for my chocolate tonic recipe."

Hermione shook her head. "Go on then. Have a nice _date_."

Remus' eyes grew wide before he shuffled out hurriedly.

"I am not that oblivious," Hermione huffed. "He thinks he's being _soooo _sneaky."

"His eyes bugged out again, didn't they?" Severus asked.

"Indeed," she chuckled. She took the towels off his face and lathered his face with shaving cream.

Slowly, she drew the blade across his skin, cleaning the razor after every draw. Severus' eyes fluttered slightly in pure enjoyment of the sensation. She carefully moved across his skin, ensuring his face was perfectly smooth.

Shaving was one of the few indulgences Severus readily enjoyed from the Muggle world. Shaving with a wand was hardly cathartic, but Hermione had taken to shaving for him in a daily ritual. It has started when they all helped prepare each other for formal presentations with their masters, and it had become a regular habit. Remus had always waved his wand haphazardly across his face, and sometimes took off part of his eyebrow or gave himself bizarre-looking sideburns. Hermione had offered to help him as well, but Remus would get all flustered and spout something about leaving the kettle on and scamper away.

Severus had no such compunctions and found great comfort in the daily ritual.

After she was done shaving his face, she patted his face clean with warm towels, massaged in a lightly scented aftershave that Master Barberry had concocted, and then drew her fingers gently across his baby-soft skin as it to make sure she hadn't missed any spots.

"There you go, Severus," Hermione said, eliciting a chain of happy peeping from the chicks on his shoulders. "You're now fit to be seen in public."

Severus snorted softly, but sat up in the chair. Hermione smiled at him and tugged at her hair clip tiredly. She pulled it out, setting it on the nearby table, and rubbed her shoulder with her hand, wincing slightly as some pain made it into her expression.

Severus' expression softened. "If you will allow me?" he asked.

Hermione slumped but nodded. She sat in front of him, back to him.

He pulled the bottle of scented oil from the table and poured it on his hands and gently massaged her neck. He ran his thumbs up across her _levator scapulae_ and then along the _splenius capitus_. The moment he hit the knots, she groaned softly.

"I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" Severus asked with concern.

"Yes," Hermione said, "but please don't stop. It will feel so much better later."

Severus used more oil, and eased into the knots with a deep pressure, rolling across the tense muscle in order to break up the adhesions. The citrusy oil, which was a light grapefruit scent, mixed with her natural scent of damp earth, autumn, and woodsmoke and the combination was very pleasing to him. There was a comfort in her scent that had built on their years together, but something had somehow... _changed_. He just couldn't put his finger on exactly what that change was.

Her muscles finally began to loosen up, and she rocked a little— back and forth— as she yielded to his gentle touch. His aquiline nose was almost pressed into her hair. He breathed in her scent, his eyes closing as he imprinted the scent of what was so distinctively _her_ into his grey matter.

Muscles worked, he pulled the hair comb off the table and ran in through her tangled tresses, taming them to move them in place. Placing the comb down, he used his fingers to comb her hair into position and clipped her curls back with her hair clip. His fingers reluctantly left her hair. "I'm finished," he said after a moment.

Hermione turned and smiled at him. "Thank you, Severus," she said with a genuine smile that filled her bright grey eyes. "Oops, missed a spot," she said, running her fingers against the smooth skin near his ear. She patted his ear gently with a towel to get the last traces of shaving cream off his skin.

She gazed into eyes with a serene expression. "We have to floo back to Hogwarts to help teach," she said with a shake of her head. "I'll drop the chicks off to Master Barberry so you can finish preparing."

Severus nodded dumbly as she herded the half-grown chicks onto her shoulders, and they all peeped with protest at being moved away from his warmth.

"Silly little things," she tutted. "See you soon, Severus."

Severus watched her leave, and felt a strange stirring he couldn't quite identify. The tingle of her touch was still there on his skin, and he was keenly aware of her absence even though she had only just left.

Severus dug his nails into his palm. "What in Merlin's name was _wrong _with him? Hermione wasn't going anywhere she hadn't gone on any other day. Why was there this strange, unfathomable, gnawing feeling in his gut?

Severus's eyes darkened as he forced his conflict and confusion into the back of his mind. He would have to deal with his illogical thoughts some time later.

* * *

Six years of apprenticing did not, unfortunately, make the wide-eyed first years any easier to deal with. Minerva chuckled at the trio's palpable frustration, making sure to remind them that it wasn't all that long ago that the three of them were looking at Hogwarts for the first time and didn't know which end of a wand to swish or flick either.

Miss Pennyworth had managed to zap herself right between the eyes staring at something on the tip of her wand. Mr Sheehan had somehow glued himself to his chair with an accidental permanent sticking charm before class had even started, and Mr Compton had gifted himself with a fine set of gleaming sabertooth fangs that would have done any prehistoric feline proud. Miss Abernathy accidently turned half of her familiar into a pig, leaving the poor cat very conflicted, indeed. Fifteen snuff boxes were running around with mouse feet, and three desks had somehow been turned into random flocks of birds. One sheepish-looking student had completely botched the spell altogether and turned their desk into a basket of colorful Easter eggs. The only thing that slightly comforted the trio of apprentices was that said comedy of errors at least didn't happen all at once, and Severus had somehow managed not to murder anyone with the force of his glare alone.

Sometimes, Hermione would catch herself smiling when Severus gave his trademarked killing curse glare, thinking "back" on a time when it was frequently directed at her and her incessant hand-waving.

_Insufferable Know-It-All._

He was growing taller and more into the impressive stature she remembered. His voice had finally stopped the occasional cracking and settled on a deeper, silky register that was painfully familiar. His razor-keen wit had not been dulled at all, and the snark had already begun to seep into his teaching demeanor, particularly when he dealt with the younger students. The older students already knew better than to cross Apprentice Snape. He was "a worse stickler for rules than the old cat ever was."

Minerva seemed to find their teaching methods perfectly adequate, but Hermione couldn't help but feel like she was just resuming the role she had before her unexpected trip back in time. The difference, however, was that she felt much more at ease with herself. With both Remus and Severus at her side and Minerva carefully observing in the background, not even Mr Henshaw— who managed to accidently turn half of his classmates into mice and then somehow set them on fire— was enough to make her lose her cool.

The same could not be said of Minerva, however, who promptly stormed across the classroom, putting out the squealing rodents and turning them back into students before any permanent damage was done. Mr Henshaw spent the next week in detention with Argus Filch polishing all of the chandeliers without magic and taking a toothbrush to the tiles of every single bathroom in Hogwarts. Magic, she said, was apparently too much for him to handle. Argus was only too happy to oblige the elder Animagus' punitive whims.

Thanks to their well-rounded education, when they weren't teaching first years at Hogwarts, learning their own lessons, or wrangling hyperactive lintballs, they were assisting the younger Apprentices in Potions and Charms. When they weren't doing that, they were continuing their training with the Aurors, and when that wasn't on the table, they were often working with their masters on the mystery that was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and the matter of the two remaining Horcruxes.

The Diary and the Goblet had been purged successfully, leaving those artifacts to be safely tucked away in the special vaults at Gringott's. Voldemort's attacks grew ever more heated and reckless. Hermione, who had seen "historically" where Tom's influence had begun to take hold in the Ministry, noticed that his attempts at garnering influence were nowhere near as successful as she remembered from her future-past. Voldemort, forced to work without the enthusiastic funding and backing of the influential House of Malfoy, was forced to make do with certain less well-to-do families. Fewer bribes were getting to the people, and someone had leaked the information— well-documented public records— of exactly who Tom Riddle really was. Many of the Pureblood families did not want their family names to be associated with the debacle that was Abraxas Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. It didn't even matter that it hadn't been Tom Riddle who cursed the former Lord Malfoy or killed Bellatrix Lestrange. Whispers circulated that both of them had been known Death Eaters. Bellatrix' arm had borne the infamous tattoo of shame even after her death, and it only took a small bit of paranoia to do the rest.

Hermione was fairly certain that Tom's creation of the Horcruxes had already transformed him into the red-eyed mutant that she remembered all-too-well. There was no way, short of a very elaborate glamour, that he would be able to charm his way into acquiring the standing he had had before. Voldemort had been quite proud of his terrifying appearance, so even if using a glamour was even an option, she highly doubted that he would choose to embrace that idea. Voldemort had relied on the unconditional funds and influence of Abraxas Malfoy over the other Pureblood families, but that time was long past. Abraxas had been disgraced; Lucius had emphatically separated himself from his father's beliefs in a manner that would not allow him to support anything Voldemort's agenda wanted, and his most devout and devoted fanatic was now dead, courtesy of Abraxas the dragon. That left the Lestranges, Crabbes, and Goyles as his main hidden supporters. The Parkinsons had traditionally followed the Malfoys, but now they had very recently and conveniently moved, ironically enough, to Australia to study the magical flying wombat with the Scamander family.

On paper, it was a fabulous opportunity to expand the knowledge of an exceedingly rare magical species that was rarely talked about. Hermione, however, highly doubted the notion that the Parkinson family was particularly devoted to magizoology. Then again, much had changed in her time once lived and present. Who was she to quibble over the impossibility of change when so much had done just that?

As Severus had the class separate into groups to practice turning matches into needles, both he and Remus gave her a warm smile which she returned. Hermione nodded. The warmth she felt told her everything she ever needed to know.

* * *

Sirius Black was on a mission, quite literally. He tore across the moors, hot on the trail of a scent that made him want to hurl. It was the smell of unnatural corruption and rot. It was the smell of a Horcrux. Only a Horcrux could smell so bloody awful that his senses, which were perfectly happy sniffing at other canine arses, would give him such a powerful urge to retch.

Above him, six birds flew together in tight formation: Hermione, Severus, Sagacity, Fawkes, Zabulon, and Viktor (the first chick who refused to be left out of the adventure while the rest of his clutch stayed safely at home). Hermione let out a piercing call, and it hit him with a jolt of determination. Sirius felt like he could do anything. Severus screamed an eagle call, which was, in turn, followed by Sagacity's loud hoot and the answering cries of the other phoenixes.

Remus loped beside him in an almost lazy manner, barely affected by the long run they had been engaging in for the past hour. Sirius was not built for extended runs, but Remus was a wolf, and the wolf was all about endurance, patience, and waiting for just the right moment to strike.

Sirius had the feeling that his sister and her companions shared the same kind of endurance between them. They went far longer together than they ever did separately. They moved as one, and often they would turn on a knut and take off in another direction with no signal between them that he could detect. Even as they followed the trace of the Horcrux, they kept tabs on him due to his special sense of smell. Even though he and James had been accepted in their group during the full moons, Tuft seemed to tolerate them more than fully accept them as pack. He was not hostile to either of them, but Sirius had the feeling that the werewolf remembered them trespassing in the shack all those years ago. That first meeting had not made for a particularly good first impression.

James had wanted to assist, but he had managed to bag himself a week of detentions for blowing up Slughorn's favorite cauldrons trying to prank a group of Hufflepuffs. At least Sirius had grown up a little and taken up learning the Auror trade. If things worked out, he would graduate and be ready for assignment with an official partner.

Sirius caught a strong whiff of something unspeakably foul and bayed a signal to the others. Remus swiftly turned to follow him, and the birds above banked sharply to change their direction. He gathered his energy for a burst of speed as his nose told him everything he needed to know.

There! Just ahead of them! There was a house that seemed overrun by sickly-looking trees, weeds and climbing foliage. The remains of a snake's dessicated carcass hung on the door as nothing more than old bones and scales.

He screeched to a halt with Remus, their noses working furiously.

Hermione and Severus landed on two feet, making the change effortlessly as Sagacity perched on Hermione's shoulder and Fawkes on Severus'. As Remus stood up on two legs, Viktor crashed into his shoulder with a somersault and a warble and looked about as if to see if anyone had noticed his rather skillful landing.

Hermione and Severus immediately tapped the bands around their ankles as Remus tapped the collar around his neck. The bright orange collar and ankle bracelets glowed.

_**Crack!**_

Aurors Apparated directly nearby.

Auror Moody was already barking orders, and Aurors were spreading out, each paired with an Animagus partner.

A small witch with bright red hair stood beside an Animagus that never failed to attract attention. Shaggy, coarse fur covered its body. At first, from the back, it resembled a bear by the paws and fur, but there were strange differences. A long, lizard-like tail extended from its spine. Short fur covered it, making the tail look almost like a giant rat's. Pointed, almost elf-like ears extended from the head of a elongated almost-canine muzzle. Long ivory fangs protruded from the jaw in a permanent menacing snarl. The Animagus was Auror Stephan Beardog, the world's only _Arctocyon_ Animagus.

Sirius felt like his personal heroes had come down from above like a vision of Merlin himself. The smaller witch was Violet Vinetender. She was one of if not the best Arbormancer in the world. She sang to plants, and they listened. She could create living houses out of trees and other plants. She could whisper to poisonous plants and have them withhold or gift her their poisons depending on what she desired. She was also completely blind.

Beardog touched his head to her hand, and Vinetender soothed the fur of his head. He licked her hand gently, and she nodded, allowing him to guide her into position. Their partnership was legendary. Having been put together since they started training together, their bond was strong. She trusted him implicitly, and he watched over her as she performed the magic she was renowned for.

Violet extended her hands out, fingers splayed, and began to sing. Immediately all the phoenixes warbled a response. As her song filled the forest, the trees creaked and swayed. Leaves rustled. Branches moved. Old vines that had covered the old house pulled away, forming a path. Branches moved in and propped up the fallen roof, supporting it. Vines grew in like rafters, creating a new support system. Hedges grew away from the old house, exposing its sides for all to see. Brambles and overgrown vegetation rustled and seemed to move away from the old path. Ivy grew across the old, snake-covered door, binding it together once more. The door creaked open as if the hinges were still there, exposing the dark hovel within.

Yet, even as dark and nasty as the remains seemed on first exposure, Violet Vinetender was not finished. The living root-walls opened spaces for windows to let in light. Clouds of dust billowed out of the interior. Insects, spiders, and even a few birds exited the old hovel. Dust-covered critters scurried out. Finally, as if to signal the end, a tangle of snakes slithered out from the hut and into the undergrowth outside.

Violet ended her song and staggered, completely exhausted. Beardog was there at once, offering his body for her to lean on. She sagged to the ground, hugging him close, laying her head on his back.

Viktor warbled and flew over to her. He wedged his head under her hand and chirped. Violet's hand caressed his head and her eyes went wide with wonder. Her eyes lit up, even in their blindness. She used both hands to feel the young phoenix from head to tail. Viktor warbled, and she smiled from ear to ear. Suddenly, he set himself on fire, a bright, brilliant purple. It spread from him to Violet and to Beardog. He sang a glorious chain of notes that filled the clearing with a joy so sharp it cut, and it filled in the cuts with a love so genuine it spontaneously healed both body and soul.

"Violet, are you okay? Beardog?" Moody asked, rushing up.

Violet was crying as she hugged both Beardog and the young phoenix to her, her tears trailing along Viktor's feathered back.

"I've never been more fine in my life, Alastor," she sobbed.

Viktor, Zabulon, Hermione, and Fawkes all warbled together, radiating approval.

Viktor sang sweetly, rubbing his head against Violet's cheek, having found his human partner at last.

* * *

The second wave of Aurors arrived once the shack was secured, and Sirius had to marvel at their sheer efficiency. Safety was the number one concern, and after Auror Vinetender opened up the shack, the property was meticulously checked for traps.

Old chests of items ranging from tarnished silver to anything and everything snake-emblazoned were dragged out, looked over, and carefully searched long before Moody gave Sirius the all clear to come put his nose to work. Sirius had to appreciate the way the Aurors always watched out for each other, and after training under Shattenjäger and Moody, he was starting to have much more respect for those who always seemed to know where he was and what he was up to at all times— namely his father.

One day, Sirius was going to have children of his own, and Orion Black would have his retribution. Sirius was going to experience the best revenge ever: a child that was just like him. Hermione's firstborn would probably come out flying or as a squeaky brown otter on a mission… most likely both at the same time. Regulus's firstborn would somehow come out with a hive-full of bees in attendance, catering to their every whim. Sirius? No, his child would come out a troublemaking pain in the arse. He should know. That's what _he_ did, after all.

Moody watched over the teams as Sirius snuffled around for the strongest hint of rot. The whole shack smelled rank and reeked of old death. It was an odd _tainted_ odor of sickness about the place. There was the smell of old rot mixed with the magical scent of decay. Dread gnawed at his belly. He sniffed around the floorboards and wrinkled his nose, growling lowly. He shook his head, his floppy ears trying to disperse the cloying scent but failing.

Sirius barked and froze like a pointer dog, staring fixedly at the floor.

Moody pressed his hand to Sirius' head in a silent signal of understanding. Hundreds of hours of training had gone into being able to communicate via touch, body language, and mannerisms between he and Moody. At first, he had thought the Auror to be a paranoid man who did everything to the point of overkill, but after observing the man watching out for his people time and time again, he realised you couldn't really be paranoid enough in their line of work and the myriad dangers surrounding them were all too real .

Moody was a gruff boss, but he was a fiercely loyal partner, and Sirius had come to respect him greatly. Sirius had found his true purpose in life thanks to Shattenjäger's training, but he had found a true partner in Alastor Moody. The Scottish Auror had given him a leather jacket on the day he announced him "fit not to die in the field" which was as big a compliment as Alastor Moody had ever given anyone. Sirius hadn't let it out of his sight since the first day he put it on. He understood something now that he hadn't until then: pride. He was _proud_ of what he was doing. He was making a real difference. It had taken him a bit longer than it did for Regulus or his twin, but he had finally found his calling at last. And for once, when his Lord Father looked at him, he did not see the resigned patience of a wizard who knew his son was capable of so much more but didn't seem to have the drive to discover it for himself, he saw real pride.

Alastor pushed Sirius to the side with his hand, gesturing with his head for people to move. Teams came in and began to carefully lift the floorboards. Many of them covered their faces with their arms to keep the heavy clouds of dust from choking them.

Sirius whined and pawed at his offended nose, the heavy, oily scent of rot sticking to his nose and fur.

One Auror choked on their bile, and had to dash out, but Sirius didn't blame them at all. His stomach was clenching and trying to evict his lunch with extreme prejudice. Moody stood looking wrathful, no sign of anything but barely-suppressed rage on his face.

Below them, a skeleton lay with its arms crossed over its narrow chest. Shreds of dessicated flesh hung from the bones. The stench, however, was intensely horrible. It was like the boards had been trapping the scent of decay long past the time a body would normally retain the stench of decomposition.

That was when Sirius realised why— a golden ring with a large black stone rested on the skeleton's finger. It completely reeked of powerful Dark magic. A spell was also lingering on the bones themselves. Sirius' eyes widened as he recognised the scent of the spell in question: slow time. It was the precursor to the stasis spell before the intricacies of freezing time became more popular for the preservation of food, potions, ointments, brewings, and projects that required constant watch. Someone had cast a slowed time spell on the corpse… or, even more horrifying, they had cast it on the person as they lay dying to prolong their most horrible, dying moments.

If Sirius didn't already feel like being sick, he now would have with that disquieting little revelation. A personal capable of such intentional spite… he was not blind to the horrors that existed in certain members of his own family, but Blacks tended to get rid of their problems quickly and in ways that did not leave victims dying a gruesomely protracted death under the floorboards of their own home.

Whoever it was, they were long, long dead. The magic that had gone into their hateful death, however, remained. It scarred the place. He doubted anything would grow in this plot of land where the shack currently stood. Even the roots of the trees had purposefully avoided contact with the corpse.

Sirius rubbed at his poor, abused nose with his paws. Burning tar mixed with sulfur and a touch of rotting fish.

The lingering stench of hatred was thick over the corpse.

Whatever had happened here had been very, very personal.

Sirius saw something pinned under the skeletal bones of one arm. He nudged Moody with his nose.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, pointing his wand at the bones, lifting them up just enough to levitate what was caught between the skeletal arm and the floor.

It was an old photograph.

A young, blonde girl with warm brown eyes smiled almost shyly into the camera. She had an old-fashioned dark teal dress on with a white lace collar that framed by long, straight hair, and there was a sense of utter gentleness about her. Her arm was draped around a young man's. A tall, thin boy with black hair and dark eyes with a small, almost imperceptible smile on his thin lips, stared back at the camera.

Moody flipped the faded photograph over.

* * *

_Dear Tom,_

_I know you will do well at Hogwarts. I will miss you very much._

_Albus tells me not to worry. Please don't forget about me. It will be so lonely here in Godric's Hollow without you. You will write me, won't you? Please don't forget._

_All My Love,_

_Ariana_

* * *

Alastor narrowed his eyes. "I only know of one Albus," he said darkly. "Marcus, put this is stasis and Apparate this into evidence at once. I don't want to risk anything happening to it while we deal with the remains."

"At once, Alastor," the other Auror said, zapping the photo with a spell, then he immediately Disapparated.

"Let's get this body out of here," Alastor ordered. He levitated the body out. He removed a small wooden case out of his robes and opened it. He carefully aimed his wand at the ring and guided it towards the box.

Just as the ring left the skeletal finger, an unearthly scream seemed to emit from the skeleton. The bones rattled ominously as Moody slammed the case over the ring. The skeleton flailed, shook, and let out a low hiss. The bones smoked and darkened. Moody barked orders for everyone to get clear, but it was too late. The bones disintegrated into a fine, black ash and blew outward as if caught in a sudden vortex. The scream continued as all the Aurors suddenly clutched at their heads and fell to the ground, convulsing, with their eyes staring blankly into space.

It was the last thing Sirius saw before he, too, was dragged into an inescapable darkness.

* * *

"They are freaks!" Walburga Black seethed into Sirius' face. "Scum of the earth. Not like it was in the days of my fathers!"

"Mother, he's a friend," Sirius began.

"Mudblood lovers are no friends of ours, Sirius Black!" Walburga screamed at him. "Stains of dishonour!"

"He saved my life, mother!"

"You would claim some blood traitor as your friend?" Walburga bared her teeth at him. Her sharp nose pressed to his as her breath scalded his neck. "Blood traitors! Children of filth!"

"Get out of my house!" Walburga screamed, pointing her sparking wand directly at James Potter.

James was out of the door in a flash, not even pausing an instant to grab his things.

Walburga turned her wand to Sirius. "You," she spat. "Oldest and most pathetic son that fails in everything. You dishonour us all at every turn! Grow up, for if Regulus takes after your weak-minded sympathies, then I will take every one of them out on your worthless hide."

Black fog shifted the scene.

A pristine grave stood alone under the shade of a black walnut tree.

Orion Black

1929-1960

Beloved Husband

Hermione Ankaa Black

Beloved Daughter

1959-1960

Black fog shifted the scene.

_**Lord Orion Black, His One-Year-Old Daughter, and Appleby Family Slain in an Explosion Set By Muggle Criminals.**_

_**Only Wife and Infant Sons Survives**_

_**Aurors on the Hunt**_

_Tragedy struck today at Appleby's Fruit Market in downtown London._

_Lord and Lady Orion Black were taking their twin children and youngest son to the market to see an old family friend, Mr Appleby, whose family has been providing produce to the Muggle and Wizarding communities for hundreds of years._

_While Lady Black held their infant sons, Sirius and Regulus, and chatted with an acquaintance just outside, Lord Black carried their daughter, Hermione, into the store. Shortly after, he was blown out of the store by a massive explosion. His daughter's terrified cries drew the injured Lord Black back into the flames, determined to save her, but the building suddenly collapsed, instantly killing all those inside. _

_Aurors traced the culprits, but they were found to be Muggle delinquents and thus subject to Muggle Law. Due to a lack of evidence, however, the two persons of interest have managed to escape formal charges. They remain at large as our Magical community mourns the loss of the head of one of our most prominent and respected families along with his infant daughter, as well as the kind and generous Appleby family. _

Black fog shifted the scene.

His mother was weeping by the fireplace, completely intoxicated Her hand shook as she clenched the whisky glass, and then she threw it into the crackling flames. In her hands was a tiny lace-covered infant's dress.

Black fog shifted the scene.

"_**Crucio!"**_ Walburga yelled, causing Sirius to cry out in pain, whimpering piteously as he tried to crawl across the floor.

"How dare you!" his mother seethed. "How dare you ruin your little brother's attempt to bring honour back to our family!" How _**DARE**_ you! _**CRUCIO!"**_

Sirius screamed in agony.

"_Canis."_

Sirius whimpered, tears running down his face.

"_**Crucio!"**_

Sirius cried out, shrieking wildly in agony, tearing at his own hair and soiling himself.

"_Canis, wake up. It's a nightmare, brother. Brother, wake up."_

Sirius shuddered, crying, hiccuping in his agony. He was a _failure_.

"_Canis!"_

There was a glowing, flickering light, like fire, creeping under his tightly shut eyelids. He opened his bloodshot eyes very slowly and reluctantly, even as blood tried to trickle into them.

_Hermione?_

A goddess walked before him. A woman wreathed in flames extended her slender hand to him. Her vast wings were spread outward, shining bright blue and white as a blessed warmth began to fill his cold and tortured body. Love filled his heart to overflowing.

"Brother," she whispered. "Take my hand."

"Hermione?" he whimpered.

"I love you," she sang to him, and all he saw was the phoenix, wings outstretched as if to envelop the world.

Sirius wrapped his arms around the phoenix and let the fire utterly consume him.

* * *

Sirius' eyes opened as the piercing screams of multiple phoenixes filled the air. A dark,, sinister-looking cloud was rising up from the ring in Moody's box as Moody hurriedly cast a vast protective shield over the nearby Aurors, who were still unconscious. On his shoulder was a pink she-phoenix, her wings spread wide like a thunderbird. She let out a scream of unmistakable defiance at the black cloud of magic. Her flames consumed her— the pure white of her righteous fury.

Viktor was perched on Violet Vinetender's shoulder and she had her wand out. The trees were bending around her like a dome, protecting her, Beardog, and the unconscious Aurors still under the spell that were lying nearby. The young phoenix screamed a challenge, his body wreathed in bright white flame.

Fawkes was perched on Severus' shoulder, wings fanned out. Severus stood side by side with Remus, casting a shielding Patronus over the teams near them. Hermione took to the air with Fawkes and they seemed to fly in a dizzying circle around the cloud, their flames merging with each others.

_**Crack!**_

Minerva arrived. Teacup, Jean, and Dandy launched off her shoulders and joined the spinning cyclone of phoenix fire.

_**Crack!**_

Barberry arrived beside Minerva, and he linked his hand with hers as they both aimed their wands at the roiling black cloud. Purple Tuit, and rosy-red Razz launched off his shoulders to join the swirling fire.

Every phoenix began to sing.

Every heart thrummed with hope and love.

White fire blazed around the black cloud of Dark magic and unnatural evil.

The Horcrux screamed.

The phoenixes sang even more loudly.

Sirius noticed that the other Aurors were slowly struggling to their feet, and he rushed to help steady and orient them. As each one snapped out of their magically-induced nightmare, Moody barked orders to get them stable and focused on him.

Soon. every witch and wizard stood together, wands and hands joined as they each cast their Patronus. The multitude of Patroni slammed into the cloud of evil simultaneously.

The phoenixes flew faster, tighter, and even more brightly, like a hurricane of light and righteous fury. They let out a combined scream that filled each person with purity of purpose. They exploded outward from the swirling fire, and the Aurors threw everything they had at the remaining cloud.

The blackness writhed like a snake and then suddenly seemed to fold in on itself. It condensed into a small marble-sized sphere and then shattered. The light swallowed all of the pieces up, purifying every last bit that remained of the Dark magic.

_Crack._

A small black stone broke off from the ring's mount and rolled up against the tip of Moody's dragonhide boot.

Silently, and without even looking up, Alastor Moody levitated the stone into another secure box, carefully sealed it with his wand, and proceeded to walk out of the shack and into the surrounding forest. There, he found a nice, large stump and sat down wearily.

"Three Broomsticks in one hour," he said after a long silence. "I'm buying. That's an order."

"Yes, sir!"

Hermione landed, flames still clinging to her body. She looked slightly out of sorts in her human body, as though she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"Hermione," Sirius whispered.

His sister's eyes met his warmly.

"Canis," she replied.

He rushed up and wrapped his arms around his twin and crushed her close to him.

"I love you," he cried into her hair.

Hermione smiled serenely.

* * *

Shattenjäger winced as he cut his hand and flicked the blood over the stone wall. He smeared his bleeding hand over the stone just to be sure, only pulling his hand away when the stone cracked and moved, making a path for them to enter.

"Blood magic," he bit out with a disgusted grunt. "Curse all blood magic." His hand was dripping crimson, and Regulus rushed up with the bandages and liniment to see to the Auror's hand.

As the young wizard cleaned and bound his hand, Shattenjäger cast a Lumos spell and sent the light to search out the darkness beyond. He nodded once to rest of the team and they began cautiously heading forward into the cave.

The caverns within were vast, and the waters before them were dark like liquid obsidian. Darkness permeated the very air like thick soup.

Elrond warbled from Regulus' bear back. The bear Animagus lowed and grunted. The young phoenix bounced up and down and flapped, clinging to Regulus' orange collar. White flames flickered off his wings and the darkness around them seemed to thin.

"Oh, ho," Shattenjäger said with a smile. "Someone is excited to work."

Elrond warbled and head bobbed. He sang a chain of excited notes, and the darkness wavered around them. The water trembled, shapes moving under the surface.

Klaus waved to the rest of the Auror party. "Lights, friends. Light this place up."

The gathered Aurors waved their wands, sending lights gliding across the water, bringing the cave into bright illumination.

"The water is _evil_, sir," the young Auror with scar going across his eye said. "Something moves beneath."

"Inferi," a woman said beside him. Her eyes narrowing. "I sense them, sleeping under the waters. Their bodies seep filth and corruption into the water. This entire cave is… heavily polluted with Dark magic— Dark _un_-life."

Shattenjäger flared his nostrils. "We should deal with them first. Cover me, I am going to see if the water triggers a response."

The Aurors nodded. Regulus grabbed his hand with his muzzle. Shattenjäger turned. "What is it, Regulus?"

Regulus jutted his head to the walls, and Klaus shook his head. "What do you see, Regulus?"

The bear Animagus sniffed loudly, rising up onto his hind legs. He slammed his huge paws against the nearby wall, and a flash of magic ran down the cavern wall in a roiling wave of darkness that made it seem almost _alive._ It eerily crawled, slithered, and screeched at Regulus' touch. Magical runes exposed themselves, carved into every rock and then covered in the living bile.

"Control runes," another Auror said. "Suppression, control, and—"

Klaus' eyes darkened. "Containment."

"Aye, sir," the other Auror replied.

"This isn't just a hidden vault," Klaus said grimly. "This is a prison that turns its victims into guards."

Klaus put his hand on Regulus' ear. "Good catch, my friend," he said. "I see your time studying runes with Master Wu was not wasted."

The bear lowed on and nudged Klaus with his massive head.

"Anya," Klaus said. "Unravel for me."

"My pleasure, sir," the female Auror said, casting a circle of blue fire with her wand and then caressing it lovingly with her hands. She blew on the rising flames until they became bright, and then she flung her hands outward. Her magic sizzled in the air and seeped into the walls.

"Be prepared for a fight, people," Klaus warned. "Protect each other if the things come out to pay us a visit. Ashwinder, cast me a circle of protection. Burrows, set it on fire."

"Yes, sir," the Aurors replied.

Fire blazed in a protective barrier around them as the walls of the cave surrounding them shook ominously. The sound of inhuman screeching came from the water as it burbled violently upwards in a sea of hands and bodies.

Inferi.

They crawled up onto the bank, no longer bound to the water. A young Auror, perhaps the same age as Regulus, screamed as he was leapt on by one of the dark creatures. It hit the wall of flames and erupted in flames, the corpse burning and sizzling right on top of the young man. He hurriedly flung the corpse off himself and resumed a ready position, looking a little frazzled. Regulus moved up to stand beside him, pressing his bulk against him to give him a bit of support. The wizard placed a grateful hand on Regulus' head, clutching his grizzled fur for a reassuring sense of the living while surrounded by the dead.

The water rose, but it was not actually water at all. It was moving corpses, rising towards them as one, reaching out to swallow them up and drag them within. Inferi leapt upon them, hitting the wards and instantly turning to blackened char. Regulus used his bulk to swat the bodies out of the circle to make room for the rest, leaving his team and the more experienced fighters able to focus their concentration on the more subtle business of magic.

Elrond fluttered over to Shattenjäger's shoulder and gave a sharp cry, fanning his wings as he clung to the Auror. White flames gathered on the young phoenix' body and traveled down Klaus from head to toes, sharing its protective layer of warmth.

The "water" trembled as a low, reverberating moan shook the cavern, and a giant serpentine shape rose up out of the lake. At first, it looked somewhat like a basilisk, but as the light blazed over it, they saw it was actually the combined bodies of the inferi, merged together to create an even greater abomination. Their bodies seemed to have somehow _fused_ together. Flesh, bone, and tendons had merged to form into an enormous, horrific mutant of a dark creature. The beast rose, and the "water" level sharply lowered. Large, grotesque fangs glinted, formed of jagged, broken, human bones dripping a glowing, green venom.

It towered above them, and Klaus seemed to quickly realise that no single ward was going to keep that monstrous thing from crashing down right on top of them. "Scatter!" he yelled. "Protect each other!"

They all dove for cover in different directions as the beast slammed into the place they had previously been gathered in. The disturbingly loud sounds of crunching bone and tearing flesh signalled its attack on the team.

Aurors scattered everywhere. Spells zinged in all directions. Yells, screams, roars, and phoenix shrieks of righteous fury punctuated the cavern. An Auror went flying into the far wall, his scream cut off abruptly as he hit, but none of them had time to check and make sure he got back up again. Regulus was tiring, even in his more battle-ready form, he was beginning to become just a hair slower. The constant flow of battle magic was growing heavy with fatigue.

Suddenly, Elrond began to sing. The song hung in the air with its pure beauty. It spoke of sorrow and joy. It filled each heart with renewed strength and courage. The team gained their second wind, the fighting resumed, and spells picked off pieces of the giant beast, chunk by chunk, whittling it down slowly, piece by piece.

The beast roared, enraged, and thrashed its body violently. One limb flung Auror Burrows hard against the nearby wall and he screamed hoarsely as the bones in his wand arm shattered and part of his ribcage caved in. Anya yelled, calling on her flames, and blasted the beast's limb with all she had, and the creature bellowed in seeming pain as it pulled away from her attack.

The young Auror next to Regulus blasted a few smaller "limbs" off the beast, and the beast lashed out its tail to swat at the puny thing annoying it. Regulus flung himself in front of it, moaning as beast connected and he went tumbling into the shallows of the water. Wet, twisted, rotten arms and hands grabbed at him, trying to drag him down and under.

Elrond was immediately upon him, screaming in fury, body on fire, and the arms suddenly released him, allowing Regulus to pull himself back onto shore. The beast, tiring of being foiled by the bird, swatted his tail into the phoenix violently, sending Elrond flying out over the water with a pained squawk. The young bird crash-landed on a tiny island in the middle of the lake with one, last lamenting note and did not move.

At that, Klaus Shattenjäger came absolutely unglued.

He stood taller, his wand slashing through the air as he called on the one kind of fire that had was so rarely used. Regulus knew immediately what he was going to do, and so, too, did everyone else nearby. They all hobbled, limped, and shuffled over to his side, placing their hands upon their lead Auror. Channeling into him their collective energy, Klaus called down the Fiendfyre, and it spewed forth from his wand in a crackling roar of light and sound. The arms of an massive, fiery Kraken extended from the flames, grasping the body of the inferi beast and crushing it with an earth-rattling roar.

The beast screamed, thrashing , writhing, and flailing, attempting to escape the arms of its death, but the Fiendfyre seemed almost sentient. It held the beast every tighter, burning as it crushed. They tumbled over the lake. Water hissed as it evaporated due to the intense heat. The lake seemed cast in fire. Steam hissed. The beast screamed, and the fire roared the fury of its master. As the beast cried out, the flames of Klaus Shattenjäger surged forward and fed itself into the beast's maw, burning the inferi conglomeration from the inside out. It's body shuddered and exploded outward.

The Fiendfyre Kraken slithered over to the shore, curling its spell-heated tentacles around the group of Aurors. For a moment, the tips of its tentacles unfurled, seeming to reach out and caress Klaus' body almost as a fond lover would. The roar of the flames suddenly shifted into a low, whispering, almost-feline purr.

Klaus opened his eyes— flickering orange and glowing with the power of his own inner magic. Fire burned there, both inside and reflected in his eyes. He reached out one hand and gently, tenderly caressed the fire. "_Ich danke Ihnen_," he whispered.

The flames shuddered and slowly faded around him as Klaus Shattenjäger's legs abruptly gave out.

The Aurors crumpled next to him in a pile— too moved to speak and too weak to move.

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the cavern from above, the final battle with the beast having opened the previously-hidden cave to the outside world. The remaining darkness seethed and vaporised under the cleansing purity of the sun, and the black liquid that had long since ceased to be water dissipated. The sea waters were now rushing into the cavern, filling the newly-created lagoon with bright teal saltwater.

As the team tended to each other, the unfortunate Auror who had been thrown across the cavern limped to the shore and waved to the others from afar. His face was bloody from a nasty head wound, and he looked like hell on a sandwich with a side of chips, but he was alive and that was all that mattered in the end. They splinted and bandaged Auror Burrows' arm and ribs to stabilise him for transport to St. Mungo's.

Klaus dragged himself to his feet and walked shakily up the newly-exposed pathway to what had once been a tiny center island. He limped forward, using the rocky outcrops to stabilise himself. As he made it to the cracked and broken pillar to where the young phoenix had crash-landed, he saw the tipped and broken basin that had once stood upon the nearby platform.

He crumpled to the ground, his hands working through the shards of rocky rubble, bone and ash. His hands met the charred metal and cracked surface of a metal locket— whatever magic it had once contained was present no longer. He clutched it tightly in his hands as tears trailed down his face and into the stone and ash.

Peep.

Peep-peep.

_**Peep!**_

Klaus' eyes widened and he began to dig frantically in the charred remains of the inferi-beast's body.

Two crystal blue eyes stared up at him from a ring of pure white down.

Elrond had been reborn.

The chick opened his mouth widely, complaining that he was so awfully hungry.

Klaus scooped up the phoenix chick in his arms and pressed his face into his fluffy white down. "Hello, you."

The little chick snuggled up against the Auror's neck and peeped happily.

They never left each other's side again.

* * *

"We get stuck fighting an overgrown tornado, and you get to fight a huge beast comprised of thousands of inferi?" Sirius complained to Regulus. "So not fair."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "I'm still in training, thank you very much, brother. I'm quite happy to have escaped with my hide whole and intact."

"Psh, _**Slytherin**_," Sirius grunted.

"Don't make me hug you, brother," Regulus said with a sniff.

Sirius put his arm around his little brother. "I'm glad you're ok, brother."

"You really had a vision of our sister being dead?" Regulus asked with a frown.

Sirius shook his head. "It was so _horrible_."

They looked up at as a string of warbling happy notes came from the top of one of the barrels of butterbeer Rosmerta had stashed behind the bar. Ogden sang sweetly to Rosmerta as though she was his sun and moon combined. The tavern's bar-witch smiled at the young phoenix invitingly and Ogden happily flew over to perch on her shoulder, happily preening her long blonde hair. He stuck his head out from under her tresses every so often to nick a chip or two from one of the tavern trays.

"Well, it's nice to see the chicks are starting to branch out," Regulus laughed.

"All of them seem to be finding their people," Sirius said. He looked over to where Elrond was warbling happily from Auror Shattenjäger's shoulder. His team, still together even with their bandages and still-healing injuries, seemed even tighter than before.

"I never thought I'd say this, brother," Sirius said, "but Aurors are some pretty awesome people."

Regulus snorted. "You're just saying that because you've basically decided on your career thanks to being bribed by Moody with a stylish leather jacket."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "We're a right family of bloody Aurors now," Sirius commented.

Orion Black slid in next to his sons with a mug of something extremely foamy in his hand. "Nothing wrong with being an Auror," he said with a knowing smile. "They are a fine bunch of people."

Sirius sniffed his father's drink. "Is that?"

Orion arched a brow.

Sirius practically shoved his face into his father's mug, channeling his inner bloodhound.

His eyes bugged out. "Rosmerta's secret stash of Muggle root beer?! How—?"

Orion sipped his root beer calmly. "I introduced her to Ogden. I get free root beer and ginger beer for life."

Sirius' jaw dropped. "That's _**so**_ not fair."

Orion smiled, getting root beer foam over his lips.

Regulus laid his head against his father's shoulder and gave him the puppy dog eyes.

The elder Black allowed Regulus to take a swig.

Sirius pouted. "Doubly not fair!"

Regulus teasingly wiggled his eyebrows at Sirius.

Sirius just glared. Damnable bee-charmer of a baby brother.

Orion put his arms around his two sons. "Now that I have the two of your together. Let's discuss the glory of love, my sons, and all the things you shouldn't do in pursuit of it."

Sirius instantly shrank a few inches, and Regulus looked ready to bolt like parsley in the sun.

"As we have recently suffered an almost-marriage in our family, I fear I must perform my role as your father in this relationship and crack your heads together as I remind you both about things like duty, propriety, and how not to think with your _other_ brain."

Sirius swallowed hard, flushing beet red at this reminder of his very recent blunder.

"Many of our family were already married by your age and for a few years at that," Orion informed them, "but thankfully we do have the discretion of _not_ being our ancestors." Orion drummed his fingers on Sirius' shoulder. Dark black claws very surreptitiously tap, tap, tapped into the sensitive skin at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

Sirius tried very hard not to scream like a trapped animal and draw even more attention to himself. Moody was looking at him strangely from across the tavern. A bright pink phoenix was head-bobbing along with the conversation and loving on Moody's grizzled cheek ever-so-sweetly. Sirius forced a smile, trying not to garner a more intense scrutiny from the seasoned Auror.

"Now that you are both spending much more time in public with professional Aurors and making your names in training, I feel I must stress to you both that no matter _what_ happens, you are heirs to the most Noble and Ancient House of Black and we are not the kind of folk who allow their own gonads to drag them around by the leash, hrm?"

"Of course not, father," Regulus said, tugging uncomfortably at his collar. He was staring at the underside of the table longingly, as if wondering if he could get away with hiding under the table cloth.

Orion pulled his sons closer to him, looking all the while the doting father with a smile on his face, even as his claws very discreetly dug into their tender flesh. "It is time you knew _why _we Blacks take our Bloodline so seriously, my sons. It is time you knew the _real_ reason Sirius' little seed-sowing adventure was so disastrous."

"Ah, Orion," Shattenjäger greeted. "Enjoying the beer on Moody's tab?"

"But of course, Klaus," he said with a warm grin, looping his fingers around his son's collars so they could not hope to slither away and escape. "I hope my sons have not brought shame to the Aurors in any way, hrm?"

"Nay, my friend," Klaus laughed. "They are both training up to be fine lads. By the time they graduate, Moody will have them teaching the next batch of lunatics who seem to think we are a perfectly _sane_ bunch of heroic law-enforcers."

Orion's lips quirked. "But of course."

Elrond peep, peep, peeped and hopped over to snuggle Orion's cheek before hopping back over to Klaus' brawny shoulder.

"You are the ultimate phoenix chick magnet, Orion," Klaus laughed. "However do you do it?"

"A perfectly loving marriage, I think," Orion suggested with a smile.

"Hah!" Klaus laughed. "I am happy with just this one. I cannot imagine befriending an entire species."

Orion shrugged. "One must have goals in life."

The Auror chuckled and bowed. "I must go clunk a few heads together before Peters and Detemir get so drunk that they try to sleep in the butterbeer barrels again."

Orion arched a brow. "Good eve, my friend."

"And you," Klaus answered, shuffling off for a refill.

"Now," Orion purred, pulling his sons close. "Hold this in your minds until it sears itself into your brains, and when you truly believe you will never, ever forget, do make sure to think on it again."

"You know that every son and daughter of House of Black has a particular talent of some note," Orion rumbled. "What you do not know is, the first-born of our particular branch of the family is born with Magic's Kiss. They are born extraordinarily _special_. Your sister was first-born, and so she was born unto us a phoenix— a creature of pure magic and unquestionable love."

"What you did _not_ know," Orion continued, "is that I was born a chimaera to my mother, who was born a sphinx. Her father was born a manticore, and so it continues up the line of Black. It is the ultimate sign of Magic's blessing upon our family. It is the sign that our magic remains pure."

"You, my sons," Orion said with a serene look upon his face. "You must be careful with your love and your Kisses, for not all witches can birth a monster and take it in stride like your mother did. Not all courtships are blessed by the creation of a new Line. Heed this warning well, for no matter how much we may think we love someone, not all are truly ready to embrace the true Kiss of Magic. We, as members of the House of Black, have lived with this truth for countless generations. We must be careful and more selective, least we bring someone into our family who will be broken the moment your first-born child exits the womb. Not even all of the Blacks know this secret."

Sirius and Regulus stared blankly into space as the truth of their line sank in.

Orion patted his sons on their shoulders, took a really long swig of his root beer, and set the empty mug back down on the table. "Choose your witches well, my sons, for you must not only love _them_. They must also love _you_ enough to accept the seemingly impossible."

He soundlessly glided away from the table, leaving Sirius and Regulus staring at each other with wide, shocked eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Only Orion could drop the bomb like that and make everyone think he's just having a tender moment with his sons.


	40. 1977 Phoenix Rising

**A/N:** Trigger warning: talk of rape. No detailed scenes.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 40**

**Phoenix Rising**

* * *

_Friday, October 28th, 1977 Full Moon 98%_

Apprentice Verne giggled as Tuit, Razz, Twister, and Parchment competed for her attention as she had a large bowl of fresh fruit. Each chick seemed to think it had their name on it. They fluttered their wings, warbled, and generally made obnoxiously cute babyish peeping noises,, even though they had long since fledged.

"Don't let them walk all over you, Tala," Remus chuckled. "You'll never hear the end of it."

The red-headed witch laughed, her bright green eyes flashing with amusement. "They're just _so _adorable."

Remus picked up Twister and distracted him with a mango. The storm-grey young phoenix happily tore into it. He cleaned the seed of flesh and chirped happily before tearing off into the garden in a silvery blur.

"Are you _sure _he's a phoenix?" Tala asked, watching Twister's high-speed antics.

"Master Barberry hinted that perhaps the timestream mated with a roadrunner and messed up his genetics," Remus said, straight-faced.

Tala snorted and laughed. "Your master has a wonderful heart. I know my master thinks he's one of the very best."

"How _is_ Master Greenpetal doing?" Remus asked.

"He's supporting my efforts at working with the many victims of Fenrir Greyback," Tala said. "We found another 'den' filled with stragglers of Fenrir's pack and a handful of feral children. They were so _violent_. It was almost as though he taught them to be just as vicious when human as they were when turned. I'm slowly breaking through to one of the girls, but one of younger boys is… seriously damaged. We've managed to get most of them on the potion and it _does_ help, but he still won't accept food or drink from us."

Remus frowned with concern. "Please be careful, Tala. I know you are, but Fenrir… he was a horrible man. He was even worse as a wolf."

Tala shuddered. "I know, Remus," she said. "I just can't… not _do _something, anything. "My reason is right here in front of me. I know that they _can_ have a good life. Fenrir's shouldn't be the only hand they ever know."

Remus stroked her soft cheek, causing her to blush, casting her eyes down shyly. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I would court you, Tala, if you judge me worthy."

He pressed his lips to her right cheek. "My friend."

He pressed his lips to her left cheek. "My equal."

He stopped, inches away from her mouth, breathing heavily. "Will you allow me?"

Tala's eyes shimmered with deep emotion. "Yes."

Slowly, tenderly, Remus pressed his lips to hers, and the magic sang brightly between them, sealing their courtship bond.

Tala gave a soft cry of wonder as she sank into their Kiss.

Remus pressed his face into her obnoxiously curly red hair, his nostrils flaring. "Are you accepting me because you want me or because you can't live without my chocolate tonic?"

Tala brought her lips to his and kissed him back. "Yes."

Remus' green eyes sparkled with happiness. "I can live with that."

Razz, Tuit, and Parchment warbled joyfully from their perch on the water fountain, bearing witness and offering their approval with a string of happy notes.

* * *

Hermione and Severus walked side by side down the street of Diagon Alley, and the people seemed to instinctively step aside to make a path for them without a look or their needing to say anything at all. Their black apprentice robes stood out clearly against the many and varied flamboyant colours current Wizarding fashion seemed to offer.

After six years, their robes hadn't changed much at all, but they had slowly _evolved_ somewhat, with more elaborate brocades and embroidered fantastic beasts that ran down the button lines. The plain buttons of the young, fledgling apprentice had been exchanged for the allowed highly decorative and ornate ones given by masters to their most valued and experienced apprentices. Even the appearance of their regular Hogwarts uniforms had evolved as well, into something more customised to their masters' individual preferences.

The pair walked like spectres, their long robes fluttering and billowing behind them as they walked together. The finest dragon-hide boots, custom-tailored and exquisitely tooled with images of dragons hugged their legs. To a Muggle, perhaps, they would have been thought to be some sort of foreign dignitaries or perhaps even priests, but to those who knew what they were looking at, they saw the chosen apprentices of Masters Barberry and McGonagall— they could be mistaken for no others.

It was commonly known that apprentices were well-rewarded for their devotion to their craft, masters, and skill, and no one who looked upon the pair could doubt that they had no lack of either. Yet, when a young witch, perhaps nigh but five, came rushing up to gift Severus with a flower, the two apprentices looked down at her with such warmth that no one could ever accuse them of being arrogant due to their status or skill.

Severus took the flower with a slight smile, his pale fingers grasping the stem with delicate pressure. He picked up a stick from the ground and held it briefly in his hand. When he opened it again, the stick had been reshaped into a perfect orb that spun in tight circles like a top, shimmering brightly with a prism of rainbow colours. It hovered in the air, slowly drifting to the girl's hands. The little witch's eyes shone and she squealed with delight, cupping the wonderful new toy in her hands and rushing to show it off to her parents with a cry of glee.

An older witch and her husband smiled indulgently as their daughter returned to them. They nodded to both Severus and Hermione respectfully, and the two apprentices smiled back with a nod before turning and going on their way.

Sagacity hooted softly as he rode along on Hermione's reinforced leather shoulder pad. Parchment had also decided to tag long as their phoenix for the day. Fawkes had resumed his vigil with Albus Dumbledore, pretending to be content just to swing on his brass perch in the Headmaster's office. Now that the chicks had all fledged, Fawkes seemed somewhat less conflicted about continuing the farce. With no perpetually hungry beaks to stuff, he didn't have the driving need to watch over his family constantly.

While some of the clutch seemed perfectly happy to infest Master Barberry's estate forever, others like Teacup, Dandy, and Jean preferred to accompany Minerva wherever she went or to make themselves very much at home in the flower box on her office balcony.

Pearl had taken a fancy to making a nest in Remus' sock drawer, and as long as there was a pile of his socks to cuddle up in, she was happy. Remus' lap was a close second, with Tala's being a very close third.

Pan had discovered his own personal heaven in Pomona Sprout's greenhouses, and the day Professor Sprout had come to find the green phoenix singing a beautiful song from his perch on one of the gardening hooks, he had found his forever home and forever human.

Madam Pomfrey, however, had discovered that a certain yellow phoenix with leaf green feet had begun to nest in the flowers she always set out to comfort her patients. Then later, when she opened up her liniment cabinet, she found Peppa staring back at her with bright black eyes. The medi-witch's heart had instantly melted on meeting the new arrivals, and within a short time, patients in the hospital wing were being soothed by the soft, musical warbles of the happy young phoenixes.

Argus himself had turned around one day to find a yellow phoenix bobbing up and down in his water bucket just like a child's rubber duck, and Bubbles had taken quite a shine to both him and his beloved Mrs Norris. Mrs Norris wasn't quite sure what to make of the phoenix, almost as if she was trying to figure out what kind of bird he actually was.

The infamous pepper-eating phoenix with a permanent case of dragon breath found himself a loving home in the most unlikely of places: Malfoy Manor. Lucius seemed to be immune to the tear-jerking aura the bird inflicted on everyone else, and he frequently used his new friend to fend off unwanted visitors, houseguests, and even pestilential reporters from the _Daily Prophet_. He was seriously considering renting out Habanero's services to any associates of his who wanted to remain unmolested by the press as well.

Tailkinker and Forge found themselves accepted as friends of the centaur herd, and Meliton had laughed delightedly at their clever pranks. Sometimes the two troublemakers would fly off to pester the inhabitants of Hogwarts and then retreat back into the forest, laughing wildly like a pair of Australian kookaburras. Hagrid had found himself having to try and explain why the pumpkins in Professor Kettleburn's garden had all been carved out into highly-detailed scary faces like jack-o-lanterns, seemingly overnight. However, when he discovered that each pumpkin had come equipped with a magical flame that never went out (and could not be blown out, even magically), he just sighed and put a stasis charm on the pumpkins to prevent them from rotting, deciding to use them as lamps to mark the pathway out to the hut he shared with Hagrid.

Hermione and Severus stopped at Twilfit &amp; Tattings for their latest fittings. The tailors clucked and measured them for their winter robes, profusely thanking them for their business. By the time winter came around, their new robes would be finished and sent off to them at the estate. Severus had commented that it was a far cry from how it had been when his mother had first brought him to Diagon Alley, hurrying him through and making do with the bare minimum of funds she had somehow managed to squirrel away for his schooling and supplies. Both Severus and Hermione had agreed that his mother being accepted back into the Prince family fold had been the best possible outcome. The few times his mother had come to visit him at the estate since, she had looked much healthier and happier than he had ever seen her, and for once in his life, he did not see the sunken eyes and livid bruises caused by the fists of Tobias Snape. Karma had finally seemed to catch up with Tobias with a vengeance, as he had found himself recently arrested for the vicious drunken assault of a pub owner in Cokeworth. The pub owner was still unconscious in the local hospital and Tobias was currently enjoying the delights of Her Majesty's hospitality in gaol.

Severus had a strange smile on his face as he purchased two ice creams at Fortescue's and handed Hermione one. They licked the melting ice cream as the magic sprinkles tried to escape. A charmed ice cream sea-gull flew off the cone and slammed squarely into Severus' large nose, causing Hermione to burst into uncharacteristic giggles. She gently wiped the splattered ice cream off his offended appendage with her finger and smiled at him so warmly that he completely forgot to be indignant about the minor indignity inflicted on his person.

Then the pair spent a few hours practically oozing over the books at Flourish and Blotts. Hermione's eyes lit up with pure joy as she saw the cart of new arrivals, and her happiness was more than a little contagious. Some of the books he had no interest in at all, but when she held it up and cooed delightedly at the book like it was her great-great-grandmother's lost golden egg-laying goose, he couldn't help but nod in approval and take note of it on his mental list of "things Hermione really likes but Merlin only knows _why._"

At one point, Hermione got a wistful look in her eyes, and she dragged Severus out past the Leaky Cauldron's entrance into Muggle London. They walked together to a small park with a pond. There was a wooden stand on the path tended by a cheerful-looking man. Hermione pulled out a few Muggle coins she had on her and paid for a bag.

Curious, Severus couldn't help but follow, and he privately wondered if perhaps Minerva had rubbed off on him a bit too much.

Hermione pulled out a shrunken picnic blanket and with a quick glance and after hiding her movements using Severus' larger body, she enlarged it and laid it out for them. Sitting down, she stared up at him as he looked down at her, looking somewhat confused.

Hermione just shook her head, shrugging. She opened the bag she had bought, and Severus noticed a small line of opportunistic waterfowl swiftly heading their way.

Ah, so _that_ was what was in there.

He sat down beside her, and she placed a handful of the grain into his hands. He was keenly aware of the touch of her fingers against his hand and how warm and soft they felt.

She threw out some of the food for the approaching ducks, and they waddled up, gathering around them with eager, happy quacks. Severus held out his hand, and a brown female mallard sidled up to him. She ran her beak across his palm ever so gently, scooping up the cracked corn kernels and assorted grains with gratitude. Unlike phoenix chicks, who preferred to have their food delivered directly to their insistent open beaks, the ducks seemed perfectly capable of feeding themselves without being the least bit overbearing about it.

Fuzzy yellow, spotted and striped chicks waddled up with their mum, making soft peeping quacks. The mother duck moved over to allow them to shovel some of food into their beaks, which they did.

Hermione was staring at him with a warm smile on her face. Severus flushed slightly as she put more of the duck feed into his hand.

A lone, white swan was gliding towards them, and the ducks were hurriedly scooping up the food in their panic to get as much of it as they could before the huge "beast" arrived. The bird walked up onto the shore and lifted her large wing, exposing her three gray cygnets to their eyes. The little birds shyly waddled out from under their mother's protective wing, looking around a bit nervously. She walked up towards Hermione and Severus, leading her babies to them. Hermione and Severus held out their hands, and the mother swan carefully helped herself to Hermione's offering as her babies tried their luck with Severus. The gathering of ducks quacked almost sadly, as if they lamented having to share their good fortune.

One of the little cygnets was falling asleep in his lap, and Severus' black eyes grew wide. The mother swan, however, didn't seem to mind, but he kept a wary eye on her, just in the case she decided he might try to swan-nap her children.

When all of the grain was gone, the mother swan herded her babies to her with her long neck and walked back to the water. The cygnets clambered back under her wing, and she folded it over them, gracefully gliding away across the still lake.

The ducks lingered for a while before heading off to find someone else with grain to offer, leaving Hermione and Severus alone. Severus froze as Hermione lay her head against his shoulder as she watched the ducks pursue their next meal. Her eyes were glassy, seeming to gaze far away but her mind was calm. Slowly, he allowed himself to lean into her, wrapping his arm around her slender waist.

He stared out over the water and closed his eyes. He knew what he had to do before anything else could happen. He would have to humble himself before speaking to Lord Orion Black. The ache he felt at the very thought of having the opportunity pass him by because he didn't have the blessing of her father, however, gave him enough inspiration to gather his courage. Horcruxes be damned; Lord Orion Black was infinitely more scary.

He just hoped that when he went to speak with him, he didn't get his head bitten off. Literally.

* * *

_Dear Miss Evans,_

_I am happy to inform you that we have decided to approved the financing on your loan for starting your business, Witch and Waverly. The papers have been approved for the shop to be located in Hogsmeade, and the proper construction permits have already been filed and approved for work to begin on your chosen site. Construction should be begin in the next year and should be fully completed by the summer. _

_We recommend not attempting to move in supplies or decorations until the building has been fully constructed and favorably evaluated by our Ministry's building inspectors. You will receive notice the moment all the inspections have passed._

_All the building permits should remain posted on the front of the building until construction is complete, and the originals will be stored in our corporate office._

_Sincerely,_

_Gnarltooth Blackeye_

_Gringott's Bank — Financing Division_

_(seal of Gringott's)_

* * *

Severus jerked back abruptly, his eyes wide with shock as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "What the _**HELL **_was that for, witch?"

Lily stared at him with an utterly baffled expression. "Aren't you happy for me, Sev? I'll be opening my new shop by the time we graduate!"

"Do you have _**any**_ idea what you've just done?" Severus stared at her in dawning horror.

Suddenly, the Great Hall grew unearthly quiet.

Severus turned around and saw Hermione frozen in mid-stride. Her face was deathly pale as an overwhelming wave of sheer emotion hit him squarely in the gut.

_Pain. _

_Rejection._

_Humiliation._

"Hermione," he whispered.

Then he saw it— the Black mask. The squaring of her jaw as the Pureblood daughter of Orion and Walburga Black, Apprentice of Minerva McGonagall and Gilford Barberry snapped into place. She lifted her head, tilting her chin in purposeful detachment. She pivoted on her heel and swept silently from the Great Hall, determinedly avoiding his gaze.

His breath abruptly caught in his throat. He pulled at his collar as his hair seemed to visibly writhe with rising of his magic. "No," he groaned. "I do not accept. I do not. I _reject_ your Kiss."

Severus let out a low, painful moan, his hands white and trembling.

Lily cautiously put her hand on his shoulder. "Sev, what's wrong? Are you sick?"

He stumbled away from Lily as if she'd slapped him in the face. He clutched at his head as if in agony. He pulled his cloak tightly around himself, shivering violently.

"I will _**not**_ be your suitor!" he hissed. "_**Reject**_ me!"

Lily looked at him strangely. "Sev, it's not like that. I'm not going to reject you."

"_**Reject me!"**_ Severus hissed angrily, his eyes black and piercing, demanding her immediate compliance.

Lily shrank away from him, visibly frightened. "Sev, you're scaring me."

Severus dug his fingernails into his arms so deeply that blood began to trickle down them. "You have _**no**_ idea what you've just done!" He spun on his heel and fled the Great Hall, his robes billowing out behind him.

Lily sat down at the table and shook her head in total confusion. She turned to where Remus, James, and Sirius were sitting. James' face was extremely flushed, and he glared down at his chicken wings as though they had personally offended him. Sirius had his head carefully tilted to the side as he stared fixedly in the direction of the High Table. Only Remus turned to look her in the face. "_What_? Why is everyone looking at me like I'm toxic waste or something?"

Remus took a deep breath. "I'm bonded."

"What?"

"I'm _bonded_," Remus explained. "That's why I can look you straight in the eye. I have that luxury. Any unbonded wizard of a certain age can't. It would be a serious breach of etiquette."

"I don't want to know about your kinks, Remus," Lily insisted, visibly appalled.

Remus closed his eyes slowly in frustration and squared his jaw. "_Bonded_, Lily, not _bondage._ I'm in a sealed courtship. It allows me more freedom to associate with other witches."

"You're making no sense whatsoever, Remus," Lily sighed.

"You need to _reject _him, Lily," Remus explained. "Otherwise half the school is going to be forced to avoid looking at you. You're in kind of a relationship limbo now. No one can look you in the face unless they are in a magically sealed relationship or… so young that it doesn't matter yet. Severus _rejected_ your Kiss. He needs you to reject him in return."

Lily blew air out of her mouth impatiently. "Remus, I'm not rejecting Sev. He's been my friend since we were really young."

"Lily, this isn't about your friendship with him," Remus insisted. "I'm not saying you have to reject him as your _friend._ I'm saying you have to reject him as your _suitor."_

Lily snorted. "I'm not interested in Severus like that."

"Then just fix it, Lily," Remus said. "It's very easy. Just… walk up to him and say 'I reject you as my suitor. May we part as friends for Magic has not blessed our union'. That's it. That's all you need to do. Do that and all these people will stop staring at your back but looking away from your face."

Lily's face darkened. "_Pureblood_ custom, right?" She shook her head, her long red hair flying everywhere. "You know what, Remus? Just _forget_ it. Let people talk about me like little gossipy children. Sev _knows_ I'm not giving up on him as a friend. He doesn't need my blessing for anything. It's not like he's even asked what I wanted since we were thirteen."

"Lily, _wait_—" Remus sputtered.

But Lily was already storming away from the table, her vivid red hair blazing a trail out of the Great Hall.

Remus slammed his head hard against the table. "_Fuck _me," he moaned.

Sirius stared up at the Head Table where Minerva McGonagall was staring right back at him, her eyebrows raised high in question.

"Wish me luck, mates," Sirius said.

James slowly lifted his head from the table and looked at him questioningly.

Sirius jutted his chin towards the Head Table. "I get to explain to Professor McGonagall why her two apprentices can't even be in the same room together now, until Lily decides to pull her fucking head out of her arse."

"I thought your father _explained_ things to her?" James moaned miserably.

Sirius leveled his gaze at his friend. "_Hello?_ Pureblood father, male wizard?"

James flushed red in embarrassment. "Oh… right." He thunked his head back down against the table again. "I can't even look at her until she… _why_ couldn't she have just kissed some random Muggle at a café in London? Instead, she picks Apprentice Snape, Auror Animagus, and virtual hero to werewolves everywhere. There is no getting around tradition on this one. The entire Great Hall knows. Oh, _**Merlin**_, the papers!"

Remus groaned loudly.

Sirius stared into his pumpkin juice as if trying to will it into hard cider. "Remus, _you_ go talk to McGonagall. I just remembered I have to send my father an owl, or else I can just stick my head into the floo and hope it accidentally cuts me off at the neck… my Lord Father does _**not**_ need to find out about this in the evening paper."

All three friends gave each other wide-eyed looks.

"I don't know about you two, but I think I'm moving to Australia," James announced.

Remus slid his eyes to the side. "No use, mate. Orion Black would find you in the pits of hell and drag you back out only to make you pay for every single minute he spent looking for you."

James frowned at that. "You make him sound like some kind of vengeful monster or something."

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances.

"You have _no_ idea, mate," Remus answered with a visible shudder.

Sirius drank down the rest of his juice in a single large gulp. "He and the Erinyes have tea on Saturdays," he said after a moment. "They exchange Christmas cards every year."

* * *

Severus stared into the mirror-like surface of the Black Lake. His black eyes gazed blankly into the water as every muscle in his body seemed to ache. He had tried to catch up to Hermione, but it had been no use. For the first time ever, she had used all of her considerable skill to elude him, doing exactly what any Pureblood witch worth her salt would do: stay the hell away from him.

He had been _claimed_.

He was now off -limits to her.

Until the bond was formally sealed and accepted by both sides or rejected from both sides, he was effectively stuck in relationship limbo, and there was absolutely _nothing_ he could do about it. It was all about magic. One didn't just run around with half of a magical bond. You either had one or you didn't. Running around with half of a magic bond was basically announcing how _defective _you were. No one born of the Wizarding world would want you. It either insulted the strength of your magic or it insulted your inability to make a choice. Either way, who would want someone who couldn't decide if they liked you enough to agree or disagree on courtship?

Just that morning she looked at him with such warmth and sweet acceptance. It hadn't changed since their very first days together. Then, in the flash of a heated moment he hadn't even expected enough to even _think_ of guarding against it, Hermione now believed he and Lily were…

"_Meet me in the Great Hall for Lunch?" _he had invited her. "_There's something I'd like to talk to you about."_

"_You talk to me every day at lunch, Severus,"_ Hermione had chuckled at him.

"_I thought we could maybe—" _Severus had begun awkwardly. "_Go for a fly afterwards. We haven't been able to in a while. Just you and me. Sans twenty-odd phoenixes of various colours."_

Hermione had laughed. And then she placed her hand on his. "_Fine, fine. I suppose I will agree to humour you," _she said. "_Now stop fidgeting so I can shave the left side of your face. Unless you want to run around Hogwarts with half your face shaved looking like Hagrid after running into a venomous tentacula."_

Severus had flushed and held perfectly still. Her face had been so very close to his as she steadily focused on the blade going smoothly across his skin. Her grey eyes flickered with the warm affection she had always seemed to have for him in such abundance. His skin seemed to sing wherever she touched him and lament the instant she withdrew.

Nothing had changed between them even when Lucius had bonded with Hermione. They had sealed their relationship with mutual acceptance making their relationship magically stable. There had been no threat of someone coming along and luring Hermione away from him. Severus and Remus' close relationship with Hermione hadn't had to change at all. That was the way it was supposed to work. Smooth… simple… not this horrible half-accepted limbo where no one of the opposite gender was permitted to even _look _at you lest you drag them into the midst of your magical drama.

He had wanted to ask Hermione right then and there—to press his lips to her forehead and beg her to just please consider him as her suitor, but _damn it_, he hadn't. He had wanted to wait and enjoy a single day flying over the forest together, just as they once had.

Ironically, Orion Black had already agreed on a formal dowry, saying he knew his daughter-chick's heart well enough to know _exactly_ what her answer would be. Severus had flushed, stating that she hadn't even accepted his courtship yet. Orion had just given him that knowing smile of his. All he had requested was that they allow his Lady wife to do the planning for any official wedding, or he would never hear the end of it. That had just made Severus feel even more embarrassed. Orion, however, had taken everything in stride.

There was, of course, the veiled obligatory threat of "if you harm my daughter, I will personally tear your throat out with my teeth" and "promise me that however she responds you will continue to guard and protect her." Both seemed pretty much no-brainers to him. Granted, when Orion Black threatened to tear out your carotids with his canines, he actually _meant _it.

Severus closed his eyes tightly against the pain. He had never felt so utterly cut off from the way his heart _knew_ it should be.

Severus let out a baleful cry of pure anguish as his entire body tensed. He sagged down against the dock. His body trembled. His hands curved, his nails shifting into eagle claws and he tore deep gouges in the wood of the dock with his talons.

Then, suddenly, he straightened fully. His lank black hair framed the paleness of his unsmiling face. His black eyes had gone cold, empty and utterly emotionless. A hard line transformed his mouth into a sneer of disdain. He stood, his fingers moving nimbly across the buttons of his robes in an seemingly automatic fashion. He pulled his outer robe tightly around himself and he swept from the dock, his robes billowing out behind him like a mourning shroud.

* * *

The students were convinced that Death himself had come calling at Hogwarts as a thunderous Lord Orion Black arrived at the front gates of the school. He stood there like a malevolent spectre, dressed in the darkest of robes with not even a splash of colour to him. When Argus Filch had arrived to let the Black patriarch in, he swept by Argus with a death-like hush, with only his lips moving in a whisper so quiet that no one could hear what he said to the grim-faced caretaker.

Many a visitor had come and gone from Hogwarts, but none quite like Lord Orion Black. Orion commanded absolute respect with his bearing alone. While those such as Albus Dumbledore often chose to appear doddering and unassuming, Orion made no attempt whatsoever to conceal what he was. While he did not flaunt his power openly, he also did nothing to hide that power from those who knew how to look.

As Orion stood at the entrance to the Deputy Headmistress' office, people were peeking cautiously around stone pillars to get a glimpse of him and then diving for cover when his eyes narrowed in their direction. At one point, when the wait was seemingly taking longer than expected, a comfy chair appeared out of nowhere, and a house-elf popped in and dropped off a bone china tea service for him and then popped back out again so quickly it seemed like the school itself was afraid to further piss him off.

Some would have argued that was a very wise decision, regardless of location.

Orion sat, sipping his tea menacingly. If anyone had any doubt if tea could partaken of with a menacing demeanor, they doubted no longer.

After a few minutes, Minerva McGonagall came storming down the corridor as though she were a smilodon in desperate need of a root canal, and students scampered in random directions to get out of her way while also trying to avoid getting in Orion's way. The visual seemed to resemble terrified ants being chased by a sunlit magnifying glass.

"Lord Black," Minerva said curtly, bowing her head with respect.

"Master McGonagall," Orion said, standing. "If you will pardon me, I seem to have started tea without you."

Minerva's smile was brief. "Please, do come in," she said as the portal portrait swung open. The pair disappeared into her office, and the portal immediately closed shut behind them.

Many sets of wide, frightened eyes stared at the office door. Whispers went up and down the lines of gathered students.

The tea table and chair suddenly disappeared from the hallway with an abrupt pop, and the students scampered away down the hall like scalded cats.

* * *

"I am so sorry, Orion," Minerva said, her face twisted into a seething, furious expression. "It happened shortly after the mail arrived in the Great Hall this morning. It was very obviously _not _mutually consensual, but there was nothing more that could be done at that point. Miss Evans might as well have thrown him down on the table and had her way with him in front of the entire Great Hall!"

Orion cracked his neck and scratched it with a disturbingly paw-like hand. Dark talons extended from their sheaths as he did so, making a very unnerving flesh-tearing sound. "He was to court my chick," Orion explained solemnly. "Severus asked for my permission like a proper gentleman. I looked into his eyes, Minerva. He saw no one but my daughter."

"For a very long time, I've been trying to convince Albus to allow me to start up a culture and etiquette class, especially for the Muggleborns who do not understand the ways of the Wizarding world and our society. For things exactly like _this_! Things that should _never _happen after five years of study at Hogwarts! There is no excuse for such—" She closed her eyes and took a moment to moderate her voice, which had been starting to sound all-too-much like the screeching growl of an angry feline.

Orion, perhaps far too used to his wife's decidedly less-than-dulcet tones whenever _she _was upset, simply waved a hand negligently. "I taught her a number of things, and she seemed quite improved. However, I strongly recommended that she speak to a competent, experienced witch to gain insight into the female side of courtship etiquette, as it is not my place as a man to speak of such things to a young witch. I was under the impression that she surely would go to you, as it seems that most of Hermione's friends look to you for guidance, apprentice or not. I was apparently wrong."

"No," Minerva agreed. "Miss Evans did not come to see me."

"My eldest son tells me the bond is currently in limbo," Orion said. "He refused her, but she did not choose to acknowledge his rejection."

"I believe she _thinks_ that it was just a kiss," Minerva clarified.

"It is _never_ just a kiss when the person is magical!" Orion seethed. "Just because we Purebloods are not permitted to forget such things does not mean it stops being true for every single witch and wizard! The chance is always there to form a new Magic-blessed Lineage. We cannot act as the Muggles do, throwing themselves at each other with abandon with no consequences for the soul if there are kisses given or taken with random impulse."

Teacup, Dandy, and Jean warbled nervously from the flower box on Minerva's office balcony. Orion closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself and then opened his arms to them apologetically. The three young phoenixes immediately flew in and landed all over him, warbling, chirping, and rubbing themselves lovingly against him.

Some of the simmering fury in Orion's body began to slowly ebb away, and he let out a long sigh.

"The bond between them was already very strong, Minerva," Orion stated matter-of-factly. "This will… If it is not remedied quickly, there could be considerable damage. If it is to be _anything _like it was between Walburga and myself, being parted from the bond—" he trailed off.

Orion drew in a deep breath. "I can _sense_ bonds. That has always been a talent of mine. The bond between the three of them has _always_ been strong, but the bond between those two… they have never truly been apart. Their threads were never _meant_ to be parted. They will suffer, wither, and fade away without each other. It is somewhat like how it is with Hermione and Sirius. I know, in my heart, that if Hermione was not there for her twin, he would not be… stable. She has always been the foundation of his courage. It has always been so. Together, they remain strong. Hermione and Severus are like two critical supports of the castle. They lean upon each other equally to bear the weight. Remove one… and the wall simply collapses."

Orion growled. "When Lucius came to me, he deserved a chance to win her favour. The Magic between them was strong, but it was not meant to be. This forcing one's whim or impulse on another… it is _barbaric_. It is unspeakably…" he paused, collecting his thoughts. "We have watched them grow up together, mature together, grow to trust the other… and now _this_."

Minerva sighed. "I will speak with Miss Evans." Her words were heavy and laced with a simmering anger. "She has brought great shame upon my House."

Orion stood. "I will seek out my daughter. I will tell her the answers to the questions that she cannot ask him herself, thanks to this utter debacle. She likely left the moment she saw the kiss, as any proper Black would do. That likely did not improve the situation."

Minerva nodded. "I just hope—" she closed her eyes. "I feel them. I can feel them both. Gilford will want answers soon as well. I can only pray the answers I have when he comes calling will be somewhat more positive."

Orion took in a breath and let it out slowly. "So do I, Minerva."

* * *

Hermione stared off into the forest as she huddled miserably on an oak branch. Her mind and heart were heavy with a loss she couldn't even begin to fathom. It was worse than when she realised her old friends would never be in the same time that she was. It was worse than what her greatest fear had been as Hermione Granger. It felt worse than the end of the Second Wizarding War because she had had hope— hope that she wasn't cursed to be _alone _in this current incarnation. She had thought…

Hermione sighed, allowing herself to fall out of the tree and land on her feet in human form. It didn't matter what she had thought. She had clearly been _wrong_.

"_I __**loved **__her, Professor Granger,"_ Professor Snape's portrait had confessed. "_It was the only light I ever knew in a very dark world."_

Hermione dug her fingernails into her palms until she drew blood.

"_Some moments are fixed in time, I think,"_ Master Barberry had said as he stroked the tiny phoenix chick he was holding in his hand. "_Some are not. Your existence, here and now, is fixed. All that remains is to recognise what is not from what cannot be changed. Spending time lamenting over things that cannot ever change prevents you from enjoying life's greatest gifts."_

Hermione cradled her head in her hands, leaning back against the tree and sliding down to the ground.

_Maybe you __**were**_ _meant to be alone._

Hermione fisted her hair in her hands. until her scalp ached painfully. She couldn't bear to even _see_ Severus now— to see his love for another person so clear and obvious in his eyes.

Maybe this _was _what was meant to be. Maybe Severus Snape was never truly _meant _to have that horrid falling out of her past timeline. Maybe, just maybe, he was never meant to love anyone _other _than Lily Evans.

She had been foolishly deluding herself this entire time.

Severus had wanted to talk to _her_— probably to explain he planned on courting Lily Evans.

_Maybe you were actually meant to __**die **__fighting against Voldemort. Wouldn't it be better if Severus actually __**had **__Lily to love, rather than spending his life pining away for her, long after her death?_

If it was meant to be, why did it have to keep _**hurting **_so much? Why was there this terrible, hollow emptiness, the likes of which she had never known before?

If she was meant to do such great things, why was her only reward that she would ultimately be alone?

_You're an idiot. There are plenty of other people out there._

_People that aren't Severus Snape._

If time opened a hole and sucked her back into the life she once had, what would she come home to?

Hermione's hands fell to her sides as she let herself slide to the ground and curl into a ball. It hurt. It _hurt!_

_Insufferable know-it-all._

_Be quiet. I did not ask for information._

_Miss Granger, I was under the impression that_ _**I**_ _was teaching this class, not you._

_I see no difference._

Surely the old Professor Snape deserved to be happy. Knowing what she knew, it was selfish of her to want something at the expense of a his happiness with someone else— someone he had loved long before Hermione had come along.

There was a growing heaviness in her chest, slowly weighing her down. Her eyelids grew heavy, and it became gradually harder to draw enough breath into her lungs. Her heart pounded rapidly inside her chest, as if she had been running full-tilt for countless miles.

She closed her eyes.

Maybe, if she just rested for a little while...

* * *

Tuft was running full tilt, and behind him, the very angry Lord Black, one highly enraged grizzly, and panicked bloodhound raced behind him. Tuft's golden eyes were burning inside his skull.

Pack.

Damaged.

Above him darted a small English Robin, and Fawkes zoomed ahead, carrying one silver tabby deftly in his talons. Tuft's eyes flashed pure gold, mirrored in the eyes of the other members of his pack. He ran on, ears pinned back, his muzzle curved into a menacing snarl.

Tuft skidded to a halt at the sight of Hermione's crumpled body. He slammed his head into her, whining pitifully. Again. Again.

Orion skidded to a halt, his great paws digging into the earth and creating deep divots in the ground before him. Orion, Barberry, and Minerva shifted into their human shapes, rushing to cradle Hermione's limp form in their combined embrace.

Barberry put his hand to her forehead, murmuring spells. Orion stared fixedly at his daughter, his eyes briefly going unfocused.

"The bond between my chick and Severus is fully blocked," Orion stated heavily. "Only the ones between her and the rest of you remain active, and even those are being affected by the blocked bond. They are all tightly interwoven. They do not exist alone. If we do not stabilise her soon, we will _all_ start feeling the effects. She will take us all down with her."

"Let's take her home, Gilford," Minerva suggested. "Some of us will stay with her and the rest will need to go collect Severus. The only bridge we will have for now is touch, and that will have to do."

Gilford wrapped his arm around Tuft and touched Hermione.

_**Crack.**_

They Disapparated away.

"I will go with them," Orion said darkly. "I would not wish to run across anyone in this state of mind. My sons, _find _Severus. Bring him back to the Estate."

"I will return to Hogwarts with Fawkes," Minerva decided. "I will find Lily and hopefully convince her to set things right."

"Hurry," Orion urged her.

Minerva nodded and immediately Disapparated with a sharp _**crack**_, taking Sirius and Regulus with her.

Orion followed shortly after, his face twisted into a snarl of rage.

* * *

Sirius and Regulus flooed in, half-dragging an unconscious Severus between them, and Barberry quickly gestured them over. They had a oversized mattress on the floor, and he put both Severus and Hermione together next to Tuft, who quickly took up guard duty by curling up around them.

The instant there was physical contact, the pressure immediately seemed to lessen, and they sighed in relief. Orion flopped down next to the small pile and lay down, his massive size making Tuft, Severus, and Hermione look like young pups. He nuzzled them all very gently and lay his head down, offering his presence and energy to stabilise the flow of the bonds.

Barberry sat down in a nearby chair, bending his neck back over the end of it to stare up at the ceiling. "Thank goodness for you, Tuft," he sighed. "Your drive to find and protect your pack helped us to get to her in time."

The werewolf whined softly, wagging his tufted tail. He snuggled up to Severus and Hermione lovingly, grooming their faces with tender laps of his lupine tongue.

Tuit, Razz, and Twister flew in the open window and landed on Orion, snuggling into the chimaera and the rest of the pile. They gave concerned warbles, preening Hermione's hair with their beaks.

Barberry gave in to the exhaustion as sleep pulled him under despite himself.

* * *

"Miss Evans," Minerva began, her eyes narrowed as the young witch sat in her office chair. "Do you know why you are here?"

Lily kept her gaze averted, but she squared her jaw. "I have a feeling I do. The whole school is gossiping about me."

"And what precisely is being said, Miss Evans?"

Lily hesitated. "The Prophet basically called me an ignorant slut." She winced at using the crude obscenity in her Head of House's presence.

"Do you know _why _this unsavoury term is being used in reference to yourself?" Minerva asked carefully.

"Because I gave my friend a celebratory kiss and the entire Great Hall inexplicably flipped out over it like I'd kissed a bloody priest!" Lily snapped, and then covered her mouth in mild horror, as though she hadn't quite expected _that _to come spilling out.

Minerva's fingers slowly stroked the inner lining of her teaching robes. "I know we do not have the classes that we should in this school, Miss Evans, but I was under the impression that Lord Black requested you talk to someone about the matter of Wizarding courtship."

"_Pureblood_ courtship," Lily corrected.

"No, Miss Evans. _Magical_ courtship," Minerva corrected her. "The sort of thing that happens whenever a magical person makes any form of intimate contact with another magical person."

Lily snorted. "I wasn't kissing him to _court _Severus," she said, "and I've seen firsthand how casually Sirius Black takes courtship."

"Miss Evans, I do not think you truly understand," Minerva said coldly. "As for the elder Mr Black— he had his own scare here quite recently. His negligence almost resulted in marriage."

"People don't automatically _have _to get married even if they do get someone pregnant," Lily justified.

"Muggles, perhaps," Minerva said. "The creation of a child together between magical people creates a marriage _bond_. It supersedes any other plans there might be. It is _binding_. You cannot be married again unless that partner dies, and even then… many would not touch one that has already eaten of the fruits of magical marriage."

"You're saying they have no _choice_?" Lily asked, horrified.

"No," Minerva said. "Why do you think there is such an elaborate courtship ritual? Why do you think something as dark as rape can get you imprisoned in Azkaban for life? If someone were to force themselves on another, and a child were to come of it— they would be irrevocably bound together unto _death_. In the Dark Ages, powerful wizards would take their pick of any witch they desired, and they would impregnate her through repeated effort. By the time they were done, the witch was often too traumatised to fight, but it was always a more powerful wizard against a desirable but less powerful witch."

"I did not _rape _Severus!" Lily cried out in shock.

"Miss Evans," Minerva said curtly, "when there is intimate contact between two physically mature people who are both magical, it creates a bond— a _magical _bond. Two lines of magic then join together to determine the compatibility of those people. If those two lines happen to be extremely compatible, it then forms a new magical Lineage, just like that of the original Sacred Twenty-Eight. There were others, but many of them are so far removed from the original Lineage that their magic is no longer considered as Pure."

"So they think they're _better _than us? Because we aren't Pure?" Lily asked, looking disgusted.

"No. There are those who do think that, yes, but that is not what makes them Pure, Miss Evans," Minerva explained. "The purity is in the line— the connection— to Magic _itself_. It is how closely they are bound to to the original Bond or a reinforcement of that same Bond further down the line. Many consider it a blessing beyond measure. The ritual protects witches and wizards from unexpected bonds… unexpected family. There are many who are not ready for such a commitment, and being young only protects you until you are of a certain age. Once your magic becomes mature enough to be readily controlled, it is considered mature enough to bond. The possibility remains, regardless of if they are schooled in it, and all those born into Wizarding families are typically warned from an early age not to be arbitrary with those whom they kiss— specifically on the mouth. There are four kisses. The forehead symbolizes the meeting of two minds. The right cheek symbolises friendship. The left denotes equality, and those three are all acceptable to be used freely between people. The last, however, is the mouth. That is reserved only for courtship and the meeting of those who are already bound. It is considered _sacred_, because it is the only kiss that can create the magical bond between two people simply by happening."

"What?" Lily mouthed.

"When you kissed Mr Snape in front of the entire Great Hall, skipping over the first three kisses that honour the mind, friendship, and equality," Minerva said. "You might as well have thrown him down upon the tables and had your way with him. And, since you gave him no choice in the matter, you _forced _a magical bond upon him— the kind that requires rejection or acceptance of both parties to solidify or dissipate. You refused to accept his rejection of your kiss and to reject him in turn when he requested it of you. He's effectively in limbo, unable to move on or escape the bond you forcefully created between the two of you"

"No!" Lily exclaimed, shaking her head in vehement denial. "No, I would have _felt _something. I would have _known!_"

McGonagall seemed to stare into Lily's soul. "I am not sure how you could not, but I have already seen the effects of what your forced bond to my apprentice has done to my other apprentices—" Minerva's hand shook and she steeled herself. "What it is _still _doing to all of those linked to him."

"What?" Lily gasped.

"Bonds are meant to be rejected or sealed the moment they form," Minerva said lowly. "If they are not, they can block other natural bonds that existed before. It is… torturous. It was onced used as such."

"How could it block these… bonds if they existed before?" Lily asked, digging her nails into her arms.

Minerva sighed. "It is because of the kind of bond the kiss brings on. All other bonds from the Apprenticeship bond, which is taken willingly between two parties when it is created and the subtle bonds created between people who truly care for each other and have been together long enough are considered natural bonds. The Kiss… it is _intentionally_ summoning Magic to witness a Union, and it will **NOT **leave until it is accepted or denied by _both_ parties. It supersedes all other bonds, temporarily blocking those bonds, until it is sealed or denied. It was never meant to hang about in perpetual limbo waiting for an answer."

Lily paled. "No! No!" she exclaimed. "You're lying. You're making this up to make me feel like a horrible person!"

McGonagall gave a frustrated sound. "Miss Evans—"

Lily stood up, wringing her hands. "I didn't hurt Sev. I didn't hurt anyone! Headmaster Dumbledore promised me everyone was just overreacting! He would have _told _me! He's been helping me for years. He would have—" Lily clasped her hands over her mouth in a panic.

McGonagall's demeanor changed in an instant. "Am I to understand the Headmaster has been helping you… _understand _Wizarding ways?"

Lily flushed in shame. "Yes. He offered to help when he caught me complaining that I'd never understand Pureblood customs… back when Lucius Malfoy was always looking at me like I was some kind of freak."

Minerva straightened, her hands shaking. She stilled them with effort. "How long has this been going on?"

Lily flushed. "Since third year."

McGonagall stood straighter. "Miss Evans, I think it is time you saw for yourself what has happened. Perhaps a clearer picture will explain to you what my words cannot."

Lily stared up at Minerva with a fearful expression, but she nodded.

* * *

Lily balked as she saw Master Barberry meet Professor McGonagall at the door. Barberry looked haggard and worn around the edges. His eyes were accusatory, but as Minerva whispered to him, his eyes narrowed even more.

"I will speak with Orion, but he will have to lead Tuft out for her to see them," Barberry said. "Put her behind wards and a disillusionment just to be safe."

Barberry went back into the room beyond, closing the door. Minerva walked over. "I need you to sit over here, Miss Evans. You need to be very still and very quiet, do you understand?"

Lily nodded, swallowing hard.

Minerva drew a ward in the air with her wand and manipulated it with her hands. She placed it around Lily's feet, surrounding her in the circle. McGonagall stood in the center of the room, casting her a glance before focusing herself towards the door and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Lily fidgeted.

The door creaked open and massive leonine paws like those of the ancient sculptures of great beasts came out first. A low, rumbling hggghha hnnnggga noise rumbled in the air, vibrating the room as a snarling lion face entered, followed by a goat, and a tail formed into the length of a viper.

Lily gasped in fright.

The chimaera snarled, his head jerking toward her, staring into the area Minerva warded. Lily clasped her hands over her mouth, muffling herself.

His serpent tail hissed, and a cloud of noxious green vapour came from the goat's mouth. Caustic, molten drool dripped from the chimaera's mouth. Minerva bowed down, and the great beast rubbed against her, passing by her by as casually as a cat might rub against a table leg.

The chimaera made the low hnnnnng hnnnnnnngggrrr noise again, and this time, a large wolf padded in behind, tail tucked between his legs as he whined and licked under the chimaera's jaw. He wagged his tail, keeping it low as he lapped. The wolf was huge, yet compared to the beast he stood by, he looked like a puppy.

Suddenly, the wolf sniffed the air and snarled. His hackles raised as his lips pulled back from his teeth. He searched the room, hitting the spots where Lily had been standing outside the ward.

Lily stifled a whimper. She saw the short muzzle, the tufted tail, and the glowing intelligent eyes. She was looking at a werewolf.

Tuft growled, showing his teeth. His tail was raising as he seemed to realise that they were not alone. There was an unaccounted for presence, and he wanted to _find _it.

The chimaera chuffed, the sound gaining the werewolf's immediate and full attention. He bared his teeth at the werewolf. The werewolf whined, tail lowering slightly, but still he stared at where Lily was hidden, as if waiting for the spell to collapse. The werewolf took a step towards Lily, teeth bared menacingly.

The chimaera leapt, pinning the werewolf down with a snarl of instant rebuke. His teeth bared, clamping down firmly over the werewolf's neck. The great beast's serpent tail swung over Lily's head so close she could hear it hiss as it did so. The werewolf whined, demeanor changing immediately. He tucked his tail, went limp, and exposed his neck even further. The chimaera growled and let him up, leading him out again. This time, the werewolf followed behind without being distracted by the scents. The chimaera made the low rumbling call, leading his werewolf companion out of the room and down the hall, the sounds of their claws clicking on the marble floors.

"You can move now, Miss Evans," Minerva said, her expression seeming terribly weary.

Lily didn't really feel like moving.

"Miss Evans?" Minerva repeated.

Slowly, Lily stood up and stuck to Minerva like glue.

Minerva opened the door and held it open, nodding for Lily to enter.

Lily closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked across the threshold.

* * *

Severus woke in the dimness in the room, with a half-sob, his mind refusing to tell him where he was. His body ached. He moaned softly, feeling an intense sorrow and wrongness that was only slightly lessened by the feel of _her_ skin against his.

Hermione.

Severus looked down, and her hand was in his, kept together with a ribbon of silk. It was light enough not to restrain him in any way, but it kept them pressed together, skin to skin. The moment his hand raised from hers, he realised why. Despair and emptiness hit him hard in the gut. He lowered his hand, and he could feel instant, but not complete relief.

Something was blocking the normal feel of her touch— the whisper of her magic tingling across his skin and the song of her magic. He ached with need.

"Hermione," he whispered, and the shields he had slammed down over himself for protection from the pain suddenly faltered. His nostrils flared, and he could smell the strong musk of Orion clinging to the mattress combined with the earthen and almond musk of Remus and Tuft. The soft, almost tropical scent of Regulus clung to both his and Hermione's robes as well as the distinctively wet canine smell of Sirius mingled and joined with the other scents.

He cradled Hermione in his arms, his fingers splayed across her face, weaving gently into her hair. "Ember," he whispered.

Hermione's eyes fluttered. Her breaths were coming so slow. She stared into his eyes, and for a moment he saw such love there that it pained him. She reached for his cheek, her fingers extending to caress his face. Then, she remembered, and spasmed.

"No," she whimpered. "I can't." She forced her face away from him, not looking at him. Her arm spasmed as she tried to pull away and do what was proper.

"Please," Severus begged. "Ember, please," he entreated. "We need to be touching. I cannot feel you without the touch. The pain— please. I beg you."

Hermione shivered, whimpering. "Severus," she whispered. Her voice was filled with despair. "I can't… I won't… dishonour you."

He held her hands in his as he cradled her. "I rejected her Kiss, Hermione," he insisted. "I swear it. I _swear _it. There has never been anyone but you."

"I saw you," she whispered. She stared at the blackness of his robes. "I felt the emptiness when the bond formed between you."

"She refused to accept my rejection of her Kiss and declined to reject me in return," Severus insisted. "Please, Hermione. Let me help you."

Hermione's hand trembled as she slowly touched his face with her fingers. Her eyes slowly turned to meet his. "I can't… feel you," she breathed. Her skin was cold and then her skin began to erupt in flames.

Severus' eyes widened in horror. "No! No. No. No!" He cradled her. "It's too soon! It's too soon! You won't survive it. Hermione, don't leave me. Please don't leave me!"

Hermione's eyes were glassy. "I did as you asked, Professor," she whispered, tears trickling from her eyes. "You're free… to live the life you couldn't."

"Hermione, no," Severus cradled her, shaking her, frantically combing her hair with his hands. "This is your time. This is _our_ time. Stay with me. I beg you. There is no life for me without you."

Severus heard a gasp of horror, and he looked up, tears stinging his eyes. Minerva stood beside Lily, and Lily was pale as a ghost.

"Help her," Severus pleaded. "She's burning! Help her, please! Please—"

"I don't know what to do," Lily cried. "Sev, I don't know what to do!"

Minerva pushed her head. "Take his hands, Miss Evans!"

Lily knelt beside him, staring at the flames taking over Hermione's body in abject fear. "What do I say? Help me. Tell me what to say!"

"I reject you as my suitor," Minerva guided.

"I— reject you… as my suitor," Lily said.

"May we part as friends."

"May we part… as friends," Lily repeated, her voice cracking.

"For Magic has not blessed our union."

"For Magic… has not blessed our… union," Lily completed the ritualized rejection of courtship, her body shaking violently. She gave a yell of fright as the flames from Hermione's body flared outward, burning her. Lily quickly scrambled out of the way, her eyes wide as she realised Severus hadn't moved. The flames spread to him, but his eyes were burning gold.

"I would court you," he said raggedly, pressing his lips to Hermione's burning forehead. "Hermione Ankaa Black of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. If you will have me."

He breathed hard, his lungs aching. "My friend." He pressed his lips to her right cheek.

"My equal," he whispered, pressing his lips to her left cheek.

"Say you will have me," he said, his mouth hovering above hers. "Hermione." He stroked her face. "All that I am… all that I have… all of it is yours. Please, stay with me." His tears were dripping down his face onto hers. "My heart, my soul… my magic is yours. I will fly with you, at your side, forever, my beloved. Through this life— and into the next, until the skies burn and time itself stops." He sobbed brokenly as the flames consumed them both, covering them in pale, flickering flames.

"I accept," Hermione whispered, pressing her lips to his.

The flames around them turned a bright, bluish white, flaring up around them both in shimmering splendor. Magic rushed in as though the ley lines were crossing directly through them, crackling like lightning.

_**Zap. Zap. ZAP!**_

One arc hit Hermione in the back.

_**ZAP!**_

Another hit Severus squarely on the spine, and another hit them both together, forking out from the same branch.

They screamed together, but it wasn't a _human _scream. Hermione and Severus' bodies burst into bright blue flames that paled into white. Fiery wings erupted from their backs, crafting in feathers of flame. Hers were the colours of orange and red, with bright blue to white tips flickering off the ends. His were the blackest of black, the tips of his feathers a deep, dark cobalt blue that faded into purest white.

Magic gathered in a tight ball between them and seemed to collapse in on itself, creating a sphere so small that it was barely visible, then it exploded outward in a spectacular nova of fire and lightning.

The wake of the explosion of magic blasted through the entire estate and beyond, shining with a brightness that made night seem like sunlit day, and day seem like a mere shadow of itself. There was a sphere of flames in the center of the room. It pulsed steadily like the beat of a heart.

_Ba-dum_.

_Ba-dum_.

Each thumping beat was heavy in the room.

The ball broke open with a sound like the shattering of dragon's egg, shards of flame falling like the broken crust of a shell. Two phoenixes screamed together, bursting outward, their black and orange flames entwining together as they began to sing.

The song was the joy of redemption.

The notes were warm and radiant with the gift of love.

It filled every heart with an ecstasy so keen it was painful.

Magic flowed and eddied around each bird like the questing tendrils of the venomous tentacula. It seared its Mark into their Aura, bestowing its most distinct and rarest Kiss upon their Bloodline.

The light grew so intense that all present had to shield their eyes. When it finally faded, Severus had Hermione's face cupped in his hands as he pulled away from a lingering kiss.

"I think I might love you," Hermione said, her eyes glowing with magic and emotion.

Severus arched a brow at her. "You _think_ so, lady wife?"

Hermione grinned up at him impishly. "Have you met my husband? Tall, dark, and sets himself on fire."

Severus leaned down and kissed the top of her hand. "He'd get along famously with my wife. She has the propensity to do the same."

Hermione beamed at him, her eyes filled with white fire, and his smoldered with black flames that faded into a pale grey and white.

Suddenly the door opened and Tuft came bounding into the room like a heat seeking missile. He pounced on them both with a happy whuft, toppling them over as he slammed his shaggy head against them both, tail wagging furiously. He growled and whined and moaned his happiness. Their eyes glowed golden together as the familiarity of the pack bond flamed back into life.

Orion glided into the room, his eyes glowing a pale gold. He smiled down at the drama on the floor. "Lord and Lady Snape," he purred. "Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your Purity of Magic and your marriage."

There was an abrupt thud as Lily passed out cold on the floor. Minerva was in tabby form, rubbing herself all over each of her apprentices to reapply her scent on each of them.

Master Barberry sang a beautiful song from atop the lampshade as Sirius and Regulus tumbled out of the floo and joined the pile up in their overwhelming joy and blessed relief.

Orion steepled his fingers together. "So, when's the official wedding? I'd hate to miss the cake."

Severus and Hermione burst out laughing, falling on their backs and staring up at the ceiling. Their hands remained linked together.

"Give us a minute father," Hermione said.

"We're having a moment," Severus completed.

Orion grinned knowingly. "You'll have many of those," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Sirius and Regulus blushed bright red and immediately turned their faces down to stare at their suddenly fascinating navels.

Tuft wiggled between Hermione and Severus and wagged his tail, causing it to smack them both repeatedly in the face.

Fawkes and Sagacity happily preened each other from atop the curtain rod, chirping and hooting their ultimate approval as a line of almost-grown phoenix chicks warbled happily in witness to the joyous event.

As the sun peeked into the room from the open window, Tuft whined as Remus took back the reins. The werewolf shook himself, idly scratching an itch behind his ear with his foot before remembering he had resumed his human form.

"Um, so... what did I miss?"

Five pillows hit him upside the head and he flopped backwards. His puzzled eyes turned to see the unconscious Lily still passed out nearby. "Were tasty beverages involved?" he asked suspiciously.

Hermione and Severus placed their hands over his mouth at the same time. "Hush, Remus, we're having a moment."

The werewolf wriggled and then settled. He seemed to realise something. "Hey, weren't you two not talking like earlier today? Everything always seems kinda hazy once the moon rises."

"Remus," Hermione said.

"Yes, Hermione?" Remus answered.

"Stop thinking," Severus recommended.

The werewolf flopped back on the floor. "Okay."

A few silent minutes passed.

"I want to have a moment," Remus said randomly.

Regulus leapt on top of Remus, trying to smother him with a pillow.

Remus flailed and then collapsed in surrender.

"Get married and have your own moment, Remus," Sirius grunted.

A beat.

Remus shot straight up, eyes wide. "Wait, _marriage?_!"

The entire pack piled on top of the noisy werewolf, smothering him into submission. Orion flopped on top of all of them, and Barberry perched on one of Orion's flaming horns and sang ever so sweetly of victory.

* * *

**A/N:** *Sniffle* Many innocent tissues were sacrificed in the creation of this chapter. I need a hug. Give a few to **Dragon and the Rose** too for being freaking awesome with a side the best tea you can find.

Early chapter this week.

You're welcome!


	41. 1977-1978 Old Friends and New Loves

**A/N: **I'm very glad the majority of you liked the last chapter.

Just a note, however, remember that the future scenes I wrote back in the day were only glimpses of what the future _**could have been**_ like at that particular moment. The future was not set in stone. (example: Umbridge was dealt with early on in the timeline, so she won't be discovered hiding in a cage in her basement later in life)

**A/N #2:** Lemon alert. after the first scene.

**Beta Love:** Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 41**

**1977 - 1978 Old Friends and New Loves**

_Saturday, October 29th, 1977 Waning Gibbous 95%_

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Lily said as she sat on the side of the fountain. She stared off into the garden with shimmering green eyes. Her hands combed her hair absently as she fidgeted nervously.

Severus' dark eyes flashed gold for a second and then returned to black. The edges of his eyes flared with black and white flames. His eyes flicked over to the edge of the orchard where Hermione was sitting in the sun, the remaining chicks in loving attendance. She sang her song, and they replied, harmonising with her as they bobbed their heads in rhythm.

It was then… he saw them: golden trails of ribbon-like sand in the air. It swirled around everything, but it caressed the phoenixes like nothing else.

_Time_.

How long had Hermione seen such things with no one but Fawkes to share her vision? It seemed so obvious now— how Hermione knew when an egg was about to hatch, which ones were unhealthy and needed the application of healing tears, and which chick was solidly tapped into the slipstreams. He could see it _all _now.

His mate gave a chuckling cry and flew towards the fountain. She landed at the top and set herself on fire, warming the streams of water into steaming heat. The young phoenixes cried out in delight and joined her, sitting around the waterfalls and setting themselves on fire. Their feathers poofed out due to the steam, making them look like chicks again, but they warbled happily, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Hermione suddenly spread her wings wide like a towering thunderbird, sending copious amounts of water _everywhere_. Lily squealed as she got dumped on, soaking her body from head to toe. She tried to get out of the way, but she was now very wet, so she slipped, falling backward into the fountain pool. Lily rose back up from the water with a lily pad on top of her head, spewing water like a decorative fountain fish.

Hermione bobbed her head and chirped a laugh, and launched off the fountain, taking the young phoenixes with her to raid the orchard for fruit.

Severus sighed and reached his hand out to Lily.

The young witch took his hand tentatively, as if afraid it would bite her. she pulled herself up and stepped out of the fountain, dripping streams of water like a drowned rat. "I suppose I deserved that."

Severus arched a single brow. "Your odour was not offensive."

Lily slumped and glared at him. "You know what I mean."

"I fear the time when I knew exactly what you meant without asking is long past, Lily," Severus said. "It has been a long time since it was just us against the world."

Lily wrung out her clothes and dripped. She tried to magic herself dry, but the water remained. She frowned at her wand, as if pondering if she had somehow messed up the spell.

"When I first started embarrassing myself socially," Lily began, "I would hide myself away behind that statue on the third floor. I'd watch people, wondering what it was that I kept doing wrong so often. I pretended I was just oblivious, but I _knew _I had done something wrong. And I desperately wanted to know what, but I was too proud to ask for help."

Lily sighed and dripped.

"Touch the garden ball," Severus said, pointing to the shiny crystal orb on a pedestal.

Lily frowned but did as he said and cried out as a blast of warm air dried her off and set her hair standing up straight with static electricity, as if she'd foolishly tried to catch lightning with her hands.

Severus stifled a smirk, turning away from her.

Lily sighed heavily. "Hermione asked me, multiple times. I pushed her away. She was always so… _perfect_, like she knew where everything was. She knew what every hiding place was. She knew where the cracks in the stone were. Every time I tried to be prove I was…" she ended with a dry laugh. "I didn't understand why people bowed to her like royalty, yet she never asked us to. You did it anyway, but I liked not having to. It make me feel... special."

Lily sat on the edge of the fountain again, frowning in thought. "Did you know, when I first talked to her, it was just like talking to one of my friends back home. My _Muggle _friends. She didn't get lost when I talked about missing having a toaster or wanting to call my parents on the phone. She just smiled at me, and said soon I would have so much to learn that a lack of telephones would be the least of my problems. I didn't understand then how just _rare _that was. I didn't understand that Wizarding folk live in an entirely different world, one where we ride brooms and can do incredible things with our magic, but most people just wouldn't know what to do with an automobile or a motorbike. When I talked to her, she seemed to understand everything I was talking about."

"Later, though," Lily continued, "I didn't want to be _Hermione Black's_ friend. I wanted to be Lily Evans. I wanted to be the person people knew and said 'oh, you're Lily Evans' friend,' and not like some... afterthought. The more I saw you and Remus getting on, the more I threw myself into my business idea with Mary, Marlene, and Alice… Amanda… whatever name she happened to be going by that week."

Lily cracked her neck and rubbed her shoulders. "Headmaster Dumbledore found me floundering a few times before he offered to help me. I figured he wanted to help because he kept running into me crying behind the curtains like a complete clueless idiot. He said that if I wanted to, he could assist me with some of the trickier cultural differences, and after Hermione's dad gave me a crash course in Wizarding etiquette, I figured it sure couldn't hurt to have the Headmaster teaching me either."

"When Professor Dumbledore was telling me didn't match up, I figured Hermione's dad just taught me _Pureblood _etiquette— just one more thing that separated Muggleborns like me from the Purebloods, like Purebloods were so bloody _perfect _and Muggleborns were somehow defective. I started to become bitter, and I shunned what Lord Black had taught me. He had asked me to talk to an older witch to understand the female courtship rules, but I decided to blow it off after Headmaster Dumbledore told me that times were changing quickly and that only the oldest and stuffiest Wizarding families held to those old rules."

"And I _believed _him, Sev," Lily said sadly. "I believed all of it. And even in the end, as I was reciting those words to you, I didn't feel any different. I couldn't sense this magic that you speak of like it is some kind of tangible, living thing. I couldn't _see _it. Not until… not until you Kissed her. For the first time, Sev… the first time since I picked up my wand and felt that jolt of recognition— I _felt_ magic. I… heard it… _sing_."

"When Professor McGonagall told me that she had been trying to start a course in Wizarding etiquette, I scoffed at the time," Lily confessed, "but, I realise now, she wasn't being mean or elitist. She wanted to give Muggleborns a chance to start school without doing things every other witch or wizard had been learning since they were old enough to talk and understand. I can't help but wonder _why _Headmaster Dumbledore didn't think it important enough to bring to the Board of Governors. Something like that would have saved me… helped me save face… maybe I would never have done such a horrible thing to you, Sev. I treated you like a Muggle because in my mind we were all the same. The only difference, I thought, was that I hold a wand, and my father wields a wrench and my mum a stick of chalk and a blackboard."

Lily looked skyward, blinking up at the sun. "I believed magic was just a _tool_, and I almost…" she choked off a half-sob. "I'm so sorry, Sev. I really, truly am. If, God forbid, Hermione had _died _because of me—"

Severus turned abruptly, his robes twisting away from him with a dramatic swirl that startled Lily. He extended a small, ornate vial.

Lily accepted it with a quizzical expression.

"Put one drop under your tongue every morning when you wake up. Do not fail to do this," he said grimly.

Lily made a strange face. "Why?"

"You will have to trust me, Lily," Severus said, his expression set like stone. "Go and tell Potter what you just told me, and what you're doing. Have him teach you. I can say no more than that."

"But, Sev—"

"Be sure you are some place alone but public, perhaps out by the Black Lake," Severus instructed. "There are many places in Hogsmeade. Do this, Lily. For your own safety. "I can say no more than this."

Lily bit her lip, took in a deep breath, and nodded in assent.

"Master McGonagall will take you back to Hogsmeade under her official wing," Severus said, his dark eyes meeting Lily's. "If you _ever _feel you are in danger, you must trust her."

"Danger?" Lily asked, concern written in every line on her face.

"Lily," Severus said levelly. "You were deceived by the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself. Because of his manipulations, you set into motion something that almost _killed _someone, and that would have most likely taken myself, Remus, my masters, Lord Black, Potter, and Hermione's brothers along with her."

Lily's eyes widened in horror at the implications.

"One drop under the tongue every morning, Lily," Severus repeated firmly. "Find Potter. Have him help you. And as much as this grieves me, strive to act as oblivious as you were before until Potter tells you otherwise."

Lily looked conflicted but agreed. "Okay."

Severus stood to his full height, and Lily flinched as his stony gaze raked over her with hardly a change in his expression. Minerva was walking down the pathway, looking more than ready to be on her way.

Lily looked up at Severus with clear remorse in her green eyes. "I really am sorry, Sev," she whispered.

The dark-clad wizard nodded his head slowly. *"The stupid neither forgive nor forget, the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget." He sighed deeply. "I know you are sorry, Lily, but sorry only fixes so much."

Lily closed her eyes. "It's a start, isn't it?"

Severus' impenetrable dark eyes stared into her, seeming to bore into her soul. "It is," he said after a while, "a start."

* * *

_Saturday, March 4th, 1978. Waning Crescent 27%_

Hermione and Severus stood at the edge of Barberry's estate property, just outside the Chimaera Gate that Lord Black had built after crashing headlong through the wizard's outer wall in pursuit of a hapless, would-be phoenix chick thief.

Glowing white stones lined the path through what seemed like an endless orchard filled with all sorts of fragrant, fruiting trees. Some were native, some were most decidedly not. Enchantments regulated soil and moisture level as well as appropriate air temperature, allowing a large assortment of exotic tropical fruits to grow in the colder moors of Scotland.

Phosphorescent plants grew around the bases of the trees and down the path, and they shimmered invitingly as they slowly walked the path together. Fireflies flitted around the delicate paper lanterns that were swinging gently in the evening breeze, lit with magical fire.

As they continued down the path, they noticed a small river was running parallel to them, babbling gently with a soft, calming sound. The river twisted and turned until it went under a stone bridge and emptied out into a small lake via a waterfall. The path lead to a large hill covered in old-forest trees that seemed somehow larger than life. Large camphor trees spanned across the kill, shading everything under it, but that was not what caught their eyes the most.

A charming rustic cottage had been built into the hill itself. The roots of the trees had formed a living framework and branches, vines, and even the huge tree trunks formed the interior of the house. Stone and natural outcrops jutted out, forming a series of natural waterfalls, and the stone and wood melded together magically in perfect harmony. Trees shaded the house like an enormous leafy canopy.

Hermione gasped in wonder, her hand taking Severus' automatically and squeezing it with delight. Lanterns lit themselves as they walked towards the cottage's front door. Chestnut shutters stood open, giving them the impression the home had been waiting for them.

As they came to the door, Hermione placed her hands on the wooden door, and it opened for them, already tuned to the gossamer touch of their magic. Hermione smiled at Severus and glided over the threshold.

The inside was strangely spacious in comparison to the outside. A hearth burned cheerfully in the living room. There was a number of small trees growing inside, and shafts of sunlight came down through special windowed openings that channeled the outside lighting into the house, providing natural light. More impressively, the trees were fruiting and seemed ready to harvest.

The walls were constructed of stone and vines, but the stone was glossy and seemingly polished to a mirror-like smoothness. Water flowed down the surface and then ran outside via a series of conduits that provided the appropriate moisture level to all of the plants inside. Instead of traditional dressers, gooseberry bushes formed into perfect surfaces, the smoothed wood of their branches merged together to form the top where crystal vials and flasks lined the edge. Ornately carved combs and brushes waited in pristine condition.

Hardwood cabinets lined the kitchen area, all carved with detailed and nearly lifelike phoenixes. Their eyes inlaid with sparkling, polished river stones. There were stools surrounding a kitchen island, seemingly crafted of branches and logs, yet when they experimented and sat upon them, they proved to be surprisingly soft and comfortable.

"Violet Vinetender's work," Hermione whispered in awe.

"It's amazing," Severus agreed, thoroughly impressed.

The connected dining room was spacious enough to host a large party of people. The table itself was long, and the surface was inlaid with a mosaic scene in polished abalone shell depicting two phoenixes circling each other in flight, their bodies forming a joined circle of orange and black fire, rimmed in shimmering blue and white flames. Surrounding the central pair were a number of very familiar-looking phoenixes, from the soft grey Jean to the bright pink Amortentia, all depicted with their chosen forever people. Severus wonderingly pressed his fingers to the effigy of Alastor Moody. The man's arms were crossed in his typical pose with the rose-pink phoenix perched on his shoulder, her wings spread open like a fan. "He looks just as cranky as he does in real life."

Hermione wiped tears from her eyes, and Severus felt her small hand clasp his tightly.

Severus noted with some amusement that all the doors of the cottage were perfectly sized to allow a very large chimaera to fit through them, if one should just happen to come by for a visit. It was probably very wise to consider visiting in-laws, and the frustration of having to replace a too-small wall every visit had been neatly remedied. It was hard to envision Lord Black as his human self, now that they knew the truth, and the Black patriarch seemed much more relaxed now that he no longer had to hide that particular aspect of himself. In taking the position of "the boss" of their strange pack dynamic, he seemed much more at ease, as though being given a purpose filled a part of him that he hadn't even realised _needed _to be filled.

Severus could understand that feeling well enough. Having a purpose had pulled him through a very tough childhood, and all of it had led to this very moment in this very special place.

There was a long hallway that led to a series of rooms that looked as though they were just waiting for their own special touch, but it was the hallway itself that was most breathtaking. The wall… was _alive_. The wood itself seemed to breathe. Delicate branches sprouted out and curved around to frame small cabochons with astonishingly lifelike faces carved into them. Carved plaques detailed names and dates—the wall was the family tree, every Lineage leading up to the formation of the newly-established House of Snape.

"I used to think the Weasley family clock was impressive," Hermione admitted softly.

Severus arched an inquisitive brow.

"They have this… clock. Every hand has a face on it that tells you where their family is," Hermione said.

"They have a clock that spies on them?" Severus asked. "That must make private time… frustrating."

Hermione cast her eyes to the side. "I really didn't think of that."

"Not that Molly and Arthur seem to have any issues getting it on," Severus noted. "How many children are they up to now?"

Hermione shrugged. "She's pregnant again."

Severus sighed. "The Weasleys seem intent on single-handedly trying to populate the Wizarding world."

Hermione stared out the window, coughing politely to stifle a small laugh."When Arthur brought Bill, Charlie and baby Percy into work because Molly had that emergency come up with her brothers, all I could think of was that I greatly preferred twenty-some phoenix chicks to human babies. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Severus quirked a smile. "A wonderful phoenix."

Hermione turned rather pink and chuckled.

"Does your vision of the future tell you how many children said Weasleys end up with?"

Hermione tilted her head. "Seven of them. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ronald, and Ginevra."

Severus stared a little.

"Molly _really _wanted a girl," Hermione suggested with a smile.

Severus' expression softened. He drew his fingers along Hermione's cheek. "And what is it you want, my Lady wife?"

Hermione flushed a little. "You," she whispered.

Severus' nostrils flared, his pupils swallowing his already black eyes. Black flames trickled out around them, his expression one of pure desire. It took everything in him to keep him from worshiping her body up against the newly-minted Snape family tree before they had even managed to figure out where the bedroom was.

Hermione gave a small sound of disappointment as he dropped his hand, and he almost lost himself entirely upon hearing it. He wanted nothing more than to accommodate her in _every_ way possible, but they should at least explore the rest of the home that Lord Black had so skillfully arranged for them. He had no doubt that Master Barberry and McGonagall had their respective hands in it as well, as the property was directly adjacent to the lands of the massive Barberry Estate. They had obviously brought in Violet Vinetender to sing the cottage into being, and untold master craftsman had gone into making so much more.

Further exploring unearthed a number of empty bedrooms, all complete with connected private baths that seemed to be carved out of the hill itself. A side door led out into the garden, and just outside the door, a deep sitting pool with a small fountain and benches carved into the stone had shimmering quartz crystals lining the bottom. The waterfalls around them fed water into the pool. Ample vibrant green algae on the stones around them cleaned the water in combination with the water's movement and a gentle, swirling agitation.

Suddenly, a happy warble signalled Twister's arrival, and the deep grey storm cloud phoenix landed in the pool and set himself on fire, heating the water to an ideal temperature for them. Steam rose upward, curling its vapour skyward in long, moisture-laden plumes.

"Hello, you," Hermione said, scooping up the happy phoenix and snuggling him in thanks.

Severus tried hard not to look jealous.

Twister warbled happily, rubbing his beak affectionately against her face before flying off to explore the garden.

Two small coughs caught their attention.

A couple of house-elves bowed to them respectfully. "Bedroom is all clean, Master and Mistress," they chimed. "Tubby and Zilly are honoured to serve."

Hermione and Severus knelt down to make themselves closer to the level of the elves. They held out their hands. The moment Tubby and Zilly touched their hands, there was a jolt of magic and warmth.

"Tubby and Zilly work for you now?" they asked, eyes wide with wonder and fervent hope. "Kreacher says Mistress needs proper taking care of. We's proud to serve noble House of Snape if yous accept us."

"Where are you from, Tubby, Zilly?" Hermione asked gently.

"Come from big familys, we dos," Tubby said, nodding.

"So many elves, not enough work," Zilly added dolefully.

Tubby frowned. "Elves very sad when not enough work. Fights over mopping, cleaning, cooking."

"Mother drove poor Zilly out of house, says find own family to serve," Zilly told them, her large green eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Tubby wrapped his comfortingly arm around Zilly. "Father do same to Tubby. Says find own honour and serve new family."

"We promises to take care of House of Snape forever!" the elves chimed with such vehement determination. "Pleases Master and Mistress. We's been longing for home for so long."

Hermione and Severus exchanged glances and nodded together. They clasped their hands over the elves' and looked deep into their hopeful eyes. "We accept you into our home. Our home is now your home."

There was a warm surge of magic and Tubby and Zilly instantly burst into tears, putting their hands and bowing with such gratitude that both Hermione and Severus never wanted to do anything to threaten that utter relief and profound devotion that the elves obviously felt for their duty to house and family.

"Making dinner nows," they chimed together. "Ready soon!"

The two elves disappeared with a soft pop.

"Efficiency," Severus noted as he stood up again, helping Hermione up.

Hermione looked up fondly to take in the sight of their exquisite new home. "Is this real?" Hermione whispered the question, her eyes filled with orange fire.

Severus drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her. "As real as me."

Hermione snuggled into his chest. "Are you real?"

Severus snorted. "Are you?"

"I'm a hallucination," Hermione stated.

Severus placed a kiss on her forehead. "Then keep me on whatever fungus is allowing me to hallucinate you forever."

Hermione snuggled tighter. "Hold me, Severus. Don't let go."

He crushed her to him, his eyes closed in a pleasure so close to pain. "Never."

* * *

Further exploring revealed the mudroom and they realised they had entered the house from the side door the first time, much to their embarrassment. They hung their traveling cloaks on the hooks and placed their boots in the nooks made for the purpose. A small lavender bush rustled in the entryway, sending the soft scent through the mudroom.

Hermione said a soft apology for their tracking mud through the house earlier, but there was no trace of dirt thanks to the very enthusiastic house-elves. They found house slippers and put them on, and Severus shook his head as Hermione had fluffy grey slippers shaped like hippogriffs. Hermione giggled with glee, wiggling her toes to make the hippogriff yawn and rustle his wings around her feet.

Severus noted that _his _slippers looked like some sort of exotic-looking canine, and he took a moment to imagine himself walking around on top of Hermione's brother in miniature. A sly smile spread across his face. He noted, however, that his slippers, too, had wings, and he flipped through his mental encyclopedia, pondering what sort of strange beast they could possibly be.

Hermione was petting his slippers. "Oh! Simurghs! How wonderful!" She beamed at him and dashed down the hall to explore, leaving Severus to mentally write yet another chalk mark on the blackboard of things Hermione knew and seemed to pull directly out of her little feathered arse.

They found the elves fussing around in the well-stocked pantry, and the discovered a ramp down into a cozy den filled with comfy couches and an enormous warm hearth. Severus, in righting an antique silver candlestick on the wall, discovered a hidden potions lab, and he spent a glorious hour or more simply stroking all of the cauldrons, potions books, stacks of bottles, ornate crystal vials, and myriad potion-making supplies with fond, loving, caresses.

When he finally dragged himself out of the potion lab, he found Hermione buried in books, having found the library. He looked around the shelves with wonder, seeing every subject from alchemy to zucchini. One shelf caught his eye… Wizarding and Muggle children's story books. Well then, thank you very much Lord Black. Severus grabbed a book off the shelf and sat down in the nearby armchair and began to read as well.

It was night when Tubby and Zilly came to inform them that dinner was prepared, and a quick look out the window showed a path of glowing plants marking the trail back to Barberry's estate.

As they sat down at the dinner table, Severus couldn't help but have wide eyes. Elf-made red wine shimmered in cut crystal glasses. The dinner plates boasted a dark breast of what he suspected to be duck with a lush accompaniment of wine-poached figs. A heavy helping of creamy wild mushroom and spinach risotto complemented the duck. A rich-looking dark chocolate cake beckoned invitingly next to a tempting bowl of fresh raspberries, and a distinctive figgy pudding taunted him from the side, daring him to partake of its delights before he even started on the main entree.

Hermione plucked a large, ripe raspberry from the bowl and very sensuously brought it to his lips, running it across his bottom lip as her luminous grey eyes watched him very carefully. Severus, ever so slowly, covered the berry with his lips, brushing his lips across her fingers as he stared back at her.

Dinner progressed, but Severus had to admit that despite how wonderful the food was, he was spending far too much time gazing at his wife instead of paying attention to savouring the food. Hermione, at least, was attempting to enjoy the food, but it was being hampered by her having to blush every time she caught him staring at her.

Having skipped right over courtship and directly into marriage had left them in the awkward state of being giddily unfamiliar with the intimacy of each other's attention in ways that were far deeper than friendship alone. It wasn't that they were unfamiliar with each other's mind and even touch, but the level of intensity had changed. Acknowledgement that something more had changed the game. They had, admittedly, slept together on multiple occasions as boy and phoenix or as wolves or even as Bateleur eagle and phoenix perched together in the forest. Things had changed. They had grown up without realising it, and his feelings for Hermione had evolved from friend and comrade to something tender and needful… even protective. They were the best of friends, and now they were so much _more _than that.

And Remus, their stalwart Tuft in human clothing, had found tenderness and compassion with the lovely Tala. The somewhat socially awkward werewolf had grown into a kind and gentle soul despite his condition and the shabby treatment by his blood family. He had now been given a chance at a great and happy life, and Hermione's future vision of him as a lonely, repressed and tortured man who had never known true peace with his werewolf side, seemed so very far away now. It was a relief to know that their best friend had found love and someone who was outside their inner circle— someone who could validate their love for him without being bound to him by some supernatural pack-bond first.

Hermione's vision of the future had placed Remus with a pink-haired Auror named Nymphadora Tonks, but that future now seemed unlikely— not because of Tala so much as Hermione finding out that she had not been the _only _victim of Cygnus Black. Cygnus had tracked Andromeda Black down after she had announced her engagement to the Muggleborn Ted Tonks. He had viciously cursed her, sending her writhing under Cruciatus until her ovaries and womb were scarred beyond even magical healing, leaving her crying in her fiance's arms.

"_Fine. Get __**married**__. You will not bear any children and foul our bloodline," Cynus had cursed. "You are no daughter to me."_

Cygnus had been a particularly nasty piece of work for a very long time. Andromeda had been lucky to escape with her life. Now, with her father and mother tucked away in Azkaban, she was only now beginning to heal with her sister, Narcissa. Hermione had shed tears for Narcissa, but the nature of Andromeda's problem seemed rooted in a different kind of magic and cruelty.

Hermione and Severus had tried to come up with some sort of elixir to help her heal the severe scarring inside of her body, and Hermione had worked even harder than anyone. He had found her weeping on the floor of Barberry's potions' laboratory as try after try refused to do what she knew needed to be done to help her cousin. There were potions to quickly grow back bones, Dittany to prevent scarring in fresh wounds, but the deep-seated scars of hatred that had devastated Andromeda's reproductive system had unfortunately been too old to heal.

"_I have all this knowledge, Severus," Hermione had wept. "I couldn't help her." Her body had shaken badly with her sobs of grief._

Oh, how he had so admired her— his strong, stubborn, heart-heavy Hermione. She had simply refused to give up until Andromeda herself had called a halt to the attempts to find an answer.

"_Be at peace, my cousin," Andromeda had said, holding Hermione tightly. "The one who did this to me is paying dearly for what he has done to us. There is no need for you to pay for sins that you had no part in committing. One day, you will have children the likes the Black family has never seen, and I will be there to spoil them senseless and then send them back to you."_

Hermione's eyes had grown wide. "One last thing, my cousin. One last idea. Will you trust me?"

Andromeda had looked at Hermione like she had transformed into a basilisk and proclaimed herself the High Priestess of the Cult of Bob.

* * *

_**Groundbreaking Muggle Medical Technique Helps **_

_**Childless Wizarding Couples to Achieve Miracle of Birth**_

_In a time when many Wizards and Witches worry because our population numbers seem to be dwindling, Muggles have introduced a new technique to allow couples who have previously unable to carry a baby to term to use what are known as "surrogates"._

"_It's a true miracle," Theodore Tonks beamed as he and his wife placed their hands on Isadora Tonks' pregnant belly. _

_Isadora Davies-Tonks, Theodore's older sister and mother to five children of her own, has volunteered to assist her brother and his wife, Andromeda (née Black) to conceive and carry their child to term. Muggle science has devised a method that allows the fertilized egg of a childless couple to be implanted into the womb of the surrogate. _

"_Everything at that point is perfectly natural," Squib doctor, Dr Leonard Cinderfall said. "This is top-notch science at work, but the miracle is still very much in the hands of God. Nine months from now, the joy of birth remains just as mysterious and miraculous as ever. This is an exciting time for Wizard-kind, who have notoriously had considerable difficulty both with fertility and successfully carrying children to term. Whether this is because of some price for Magic, because of the strains we put our bodies through due to Apparation and Flooing, certain other spells that penetrate the body or some yet undiscovered factor, the cause is currently unknown. It is also possible that whatever is responsible is also behind the birth of Squibs to perfectly magical families. This new procedure offers a ray of hope to those who have so far been unsuccessful in their efforts to have a child of their own."_

_Healers at St. Mungo's have confirmed that Mrs Davies-Tonks is indeed carrying a perfectly healthy baby boy. Theodore and Andromeda Tonks are understandably ecstatic and profoundly grateful to Muggle science for this joyous medical miracle. _

_In other news, rumours claim that an invitation to the Tonks' upcoming baby shower was recently owled to the former Lord Cygnus Black, who currently resides in Azkaban, and that is what led to Prisoner Cygnus No-Name's attempt to commit suicide by Dementor. Mr No-Name is now under suicide watch and has been placed in an isolation cell near the medical wing of Azkaban._

_When asked about the name on the baby shower invitation, Andromeda Tonks smiled serenely and told us their son will be named Theodore Orion Black Tonks the Second._

* * *

As Severus tenderly lifted a forkful of pudding to Hermione's lips, she enveloped the offering with a shy smile, chewing thoughtfully as she looked at him. His hand touched hers, his fingers lightly tracing the backs of her fingers. "Hermione," he said a little breathlessly, fire rimming his eyes.

She stared up into his face.

"Fly with me," he said.

A grand smile rose up onto her eyes. "Can you catch me, my Lord husband?"

"Always."

* * *

Severus chased Hermione all through the clouds, cutting sharp corners when she banked, diving when she plummeted back down through the clouds, and zipping madly through the forest like an obstacle course to keep up with her. She fled from him as though he were her death, and he kept on her as though she was life itself, each trying desperately to to lose or catch the other.

Finally, as she burst out from beneath the forest canopy, he caught a break, and quickly gained upon her as she shot upwards into the clouds. He reached out his talons as though he were diving on her in the opposite direction, pointing his talons upward, flipping his wings back, and snatching her talons in his, locking his around hers.

Wings beat against each other as the plummeting towards the ocean's surface together. Talon against talon, black wings against reddish-brown wings, breast against breast, they spun in an uncontrolled fall, each trying to gain the upper hand or some semblance of control. The surface of the ocean was approaching terribly fast, and both of them seemed to realise that they were not going to win the war of attrition in free-fall, and they untangled their talons, breaking apart and snapping their wings out to pull up from their free fall. The both of them snapped into a glide only a few hands above the water, their wings bodies touching as their wings fanned out in synchronisation.

Severus was completely exhausted. His wings were aching, and he knew that Hermione had to be suffering the same. Wearily, they both headed for the far shore.

Still, Hermione kept flying, and he refused to allow her to get far ahead. She flew circles around the great camphor tree that shaded their cottage home, zipping in one opening into the hollows and flying out another. Severus kept with her, using his vision of the sands of time to follow her trail in the dark. Hermione's fire cast a glow in the dark of the hollow, lighting the way, but she was still extremely fast. He had forgotten just how fast, and part of him wondered if Severus the Bateleur eagle could have kept up with her, as Severus the phoenix was getting quite winded.

Hermione zipped into the cottage, her wings pinned to her sides as she barrel rolled through the open window with a warble of phoenix laughter. Severus gave a final, dizzying burst of speed and caught up to her, pinning her with his wings as he zoomed over her. They crash landed in their human shapes on the top of their new bed, panting heavily. His arms caught her to him, black robes swirled around them both as he pulled her tightly to his chest and pinned her against him. She breathed heavily, her heart beating in her chest wildly as flames rimmed her eyes.

Severus's black wings folded across his back and disappeared into his robes.

"I win," Hermione breathed, her breath tickling his nose.

Severus slightly frowned at her. "I _believe _I caught you."

Hermione smiled at him. "Yes."

Severus lowered his mouth to hers, this tongue gently moving across her lower lip, testing for her response. He did not have to wait long as she moaned immediately, welcoming him inside her as their kiss transformed into something heated. Her tongue slid against his, and undid him like a ball of yarn being chased by a cat. Tingles of energy spread over his skin, and suddenly he felt terribly, terribly confined in layers of restrictive cloth. Countless hours of painstaking research at Flourish and Blotts and a few raids with Remus of Sirius Black's not-as-secret-as-he-might-like "secret" stash of manuals on _How to Please Your Witch_ and _Keeping the Home Fires Burning_ went fleeing from his brain, as his body ached with need for her— need for the silken touch of her skin against his… all over. Right now.

As he desperately struggled for control to avoid ruining their very first coupling, he realised he had a _serious _problem. Hermione was deftly undoing his line of buttons and her small, warm hands touched the bare skin of his exposed waist. He instantly buckled with a moan, his body thrusting against his will, and her arms wrapped around his body as her hands clawed at his back with her nails.

He descended on her neck, his mouth taking her skin into his mouth as he sucked on it. Hermione thrashed against him, clawing him, a soft whine of pure pleasure escaping her lips. Severus forgot every bit of magic he knew as his fingers tugged at her robes. Fortunately, he was no inexperienced button manipulator, and he was soon savouring the feel of her so-soft skin against his hands.

He caressed her breast, watching her eyes roll back in her head with a surge of desire. He lowered his mouth over her pert nipple and enveloped it with his mouth, shuddering as her soft moan undid him. Her hands clutched at him, running over his body and down lower— seeking, searching.

She was breathing heavily, each pant in his ear sent him further into a clouded haze of need. He rubbed himself against her, pressing his cheek to hers as he panted, his hands roaming across her skin as she began to thrust against his body, moaning. "Severusssss," she moaned. "_Please_."

His black pupils seemed to swallow his eyes. "Hermione, " he responded heatedly. "Is this what you want?" His eyes begged the question, determined not to simply assume that what her body wanted and what her mind wanted were exactly the same.

She pulled his head down and stroked his hair as her mouth sought his ear. "I want you," she breathed into his ear canal, her breath tickling his ears with maddening efficiency. "All of you." Her hot tongue plunged into his ear, and he moaned loudly, his back arching as his hands planted on both sides of her as he tried not to crush her.

Suddenly, Hermione froze, her body still against him. She was suddenly so very, very vulnerable. "What is it you want, Severus?" Her voice was a whisper, her soul exposed.

Severus stared down at her, his black eyes shimmering. "I want you and only you. I want to feel your body against mine. I want to wake up to you every morning beside me. I wish my name to be on your lips as I pleasure you and no other. I wish my touch to bring you to rapture. I wish to see the light it in your eyes as we become one. I want you. I need you. I _ache _ for you."

He stared into her face, pressing his forehead to hers. "What is it you want, Hermione? What would you ask of me?"

Hermione stared at him, her fingers tracing his face, skimming across his cheekbones as she closed her eyes. She spread her fingers across his face like the legs of a spider, feeling for something only she knew. Her fingers traced his lips "I wish to see a smile on your face, Severus. In your eyes… in your heart. I want to know I helped put it there. I want to see you live a long, long happy life filled with joy. I want you to share that life with me. I want my love to chase away that pain away that haunts you."

Tears came from between her closed eyes. "I want my voice to reach your heart when it seems nothing else can. I want my song to soothe your sadness or your anger. I want to feel your arms around me when I wake. I want to know if you snore. I want to fly with you forever. I want to be yours and have you as mine until time stops and the skies burn. I want to bear your children and see them with your eyes and my nose and know the depth of our love brought to life such a wondrous gift. I want my firstborn to be blessed with wings that they may see the world as we do and share in it. I want them to know my father and know why they are a part of something that has spanned so many lifetimes untold— all cradled in Magic's arms and bearing Magic's kiss. I want my mother to smile as our children hug her legs and laugh as they play pranks on their uncles. I want them to know they come from a proud line of the ancient and noble House of Black and the new and equally noble House of Snape. I want _you_, Severus. I need you. I ache for you. You and no other. Always."

Severus' dark eyes shed tears that ran down the length of his aquiline nose and splashed onto her cheeks. "I love you," he said as his mouth tenderly covered hers.

Their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm together in their rising need. Hermione's deft hands relieved him of his trousers and his pants. He groaned as the wrapped around his very eager length. His eyes rolled back as she massaged him in just the right places, and he barely had enough remaining coherency to mutter the words for the contraceptive charm against her belly. "Make no mistake," he panted into her ear as he breathed heavily. "I _do _want children with you, Hermione, but when it is safe for us to do so."

His hand drifted lower on her body, and she arched up against him eagerly, causing him to smile. He massaged her, and she parted her legs for him, already damp with her overwhelming desire for him.

"_Please_, Severus," Hermione moaned feverishly.

"Look at me, my love," he requested, his fingers testing her channel to ascertain her readiness for him.

Hermione looked at him with an expression of such sheer _want _that he felt a powerful, heady response traveling swiftly down his body. He caressed her breast with his hand as his mouth traveled to her neck, suckling there as he eased between her legs, seeking her core.

She groaned, clawing his back as her hips thrust eagerly to meet him, and his pupils blew wide as she welcomed him inside her much faster than he had been expecting, much less prepared for. Exquisite pleasure shot through him, licking his body like a tongue of flame, crackling up his spine with blazing heat as he let out a low, powerful groan. He thrust strongly, burying himself into her welcoming silken warmth, and she cried out, bucking sharply against him, arching as her arms spasmed and pulled him in tighter, tighter against herself.

"Look at me, love," he panted, staring down at her as their bodies moved together towards the shining intensity that stayed just out of reach.

Hermione stared into his eyes, flames dancing in hers.

He thrust, again, again, and again, each time he felt bolts of something incredibly powerful growing inside of him like a great beast wishing to fly out of his body, like a butterfly emerging from its restrictive cocoon and into the glorious sunlight. His skin felt so very achingly tight, as though it was about to split at the seams.

Hermione was making soft whimpering sounds, her hands working over every inch of his back as though she wanted to pull him inside herself completely.

"_Ssssssssssss_," she hissed.

Severus panted heavily, he rubbed his overheated body against hers, grinding his cheek against hers as his tongue sought hers, and he sucked her into his mouth hungrily. He could take it no longer, he thrust again and again into her until his vision went white around the edges and the world seemed to explode side-ways.

_Bliss_.

The world was on fire. No, _they _were on fire. Flames surged off their bodies in an amazing rush of heat as they reached the point of pure union together. Severus's back erupted with the span of his vast, black wings. Flames roared off them as he screamed— a pure phoenix scream of power, possession, completion, and unification.

She cried out as her walls clamped down on him, trapping him inside of herself. She spasmed around him, and he cried out. "H… Hhhhhhermione—" he gasped, wrapping his arms and wings around her as he slammed his body into her and held her to him tightly, his body spasming wildly in unison with hers as she cried out, clawing, flailing, and moaning as her body responded to his in the most primal way possible.

Their bodies stilled against each other, their breathing settling, easing slowly as they seemed to come back down to earth together. Severus' wings folded and disappeared against his spine as he gathered her to him and pressed his flushed face into her wild black curls. His body was heavy with both bliss and a pleasing kind of exhaustion. He felt a tingle throughout his entire body. He kissed her forehead tenderly, tucking her against him and up under his chin.

"I love you, my Lady," Severus whispered into her hair. "My wife."

Hermione hummed softly as she snuggled tightly against his body as they both drifted off into sleep. "I am yours, my Lord, my husband," she purred.

* * *

_**The House of Snape Joins the Now Sacred 29**_

_Did you feel __**that**__, Wizarding Britain?_

_That, my friends, was the spontaneous formation of the newest Pure house founded with the fabled Kiss of Magic. _

_The Wizarding world welcomes the noble House of Snape to the Sacred 28, making it the Sacred 29. Twenty-nine families that have all been created solely by the sacred bond of magic that symbolises so much more than a conventional marriage currently bless Wizarding Britain. _

_Reports of an unusually vivid aurora borealis to dead trees suddenly coming to life in full bloom have been reported all over Britain. Orchard farmers are reporting bumper crops of exceptional produce ranging from apples to grapes to plums. Even more amazing, countless reports have reached our ears of gooseberry bushes popping up in gardens everywhere. Dry river beds are now surging with water as underground springs have inexplicably been replenished and are now active again. The passenger pigeon, which was reported to be extinct, made a surprising comeback when entire flocks of the birds returned to roost all over Oxford. Fifteen reports of unicorns have been coming in from Muggles. Yes. __**Muggles!**_

_Witnessing of a Founding of one of the sacred families has not occurred in many generations. Most of the families that can trace their bloodlines back to the founding 28 go back hundreds of years. _

_Parties have broken out across the Country in celebration of this extremely special event. Thousands of owls have been delivering congratulations, gifts, and requests for the new Lord and Lady Snape to do everything from make appearances, bless their babies, and ward their homes against garden gnomes._

_The official wedding, however, is not scheduled until both Lord and Lady Snape complete their Apprenticeship with Masters Barberry and McGonagall. Lady Walburga Black has graciously taken on the responsibility of planning for her daughter's wedding, and many have been sending her requests to be invited due to the extraordinary circumstances in which the House of Snape came to be. _

_When the Headmaster of Hogwarts was questioned as to how he felt about having such a glorious blessing happening right under his nose, he said, "It seems only yesterday Mr Snape was entered in a courtship with Miss Evans. Magic surely had a most fortuitous surprise for us."_

_The Board of Governors has approved a special accommodation of married quarters for the two apprentices, and while Headmaster Dumbledore had previously stated that the work required to do so would take longer than the time they have remaining as Hogwarts students, many artisans have volunteered their time to make it happen without any remuneration due to the extraordinary situation. In fact, the artisans who arrived to offer their services seemed to have additional assistance from Hogwarts itself, and the changes were, in fact, made within a single day._

_Isn't magic wonderful?_

_When Masters McGonagall and Barberry were asked how they felt about their newlywed apprentices, they both stated, "We couldn't be any more proud of them both."_

_We here at the _Daily Prophet _offer our most sincere congratulations to the happy couple._

* * *

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Blessed with Multiple Phoenixes!**_

_Recently, we've seen quite a lot of blessings happening all across Britain, but it seems magic is still not finished yet!_

_Phoenixes have shown up all over Hogwarts, adopting some of the professors as their humans of choice. _

_The phoenix, known to be an exceedingly rare and magical bird, species has proven to be rather less rare than previously believed and even extremely helpful to their chosen person. While Hogwarts seems to have been blessed with the largest number of phoenixes, a few have turned up at the Auror Office as well, causing no small amount of happiness and excitement at the Ministry._

_The big question is… why?_

_Phoenix expert, Aurora Byrde , seems to think that the conditions were just right. Whether it was environmental or some phase of the sun or moon, she is not sure, but she stated that the few times she's been privy to a nest of phoenix chicks hatching, it was always as if they know to hatch at the same time. _

"_Phoenixes are a highly social species," Madam Byrde stated. "They hatch together in a large social unit. If a phoenix chooses a person, it is always to be that person's friend and helpmate. There have been rare cases when a witch or wizard has attempted to make a phoenix their familiar, but it tends to end quite badly. Phoenixes are creatures who detest selfish and evil intent. Those who manage to hold sway over a creature as pure as a phoenix will often, eventually, slip up, and the phoenix will escape. It is said that a phoenix holds a grudge for life, and the life of a phoenix is said to be very long indeed."_

"_Whatever has caused this particular population surge in phoenixes is definitely something to be celebrated," Madam Byrde concluded. "We don't always need to know exactly why. All we need to do is recognise that this event is a fantastic boon."_

* * *

_May 3rd, 1978. Moon Waning Crescent 5%_

Regulus smelled something wonderfully enticing, and he couldn't help following his nose. It smelled like the ambrosia of the gods, or rather, it smelled like what he imagined the ambrosia of the gods must smell like.

Things at Hogwarts had finally settled down a little, all things considered, and the drama caused by his sister helping to found a new magical Lineage as well as the recent explosion of phoenix bondings around Hogwarts had put the famed school of magic under a very curious spotlight.

He imagined that the Headmaster must be feeling very frustrated that he was not as free to do things as he once was, all thanks to his meddling in the first place. That, at least, was Regulus' presumption.

All and all, Regulus was happy for a bit of a breather. Even though he was always alert for abnormalities in the fabric of life at Hogwarts, the Headmaster seemed to have stilled his movements for the time being. Argus had not noted anything odder than usual, and this despite the fact that the Headmaster seemed to think Argus missed _everything_, Regulus, however, knew better. Argus was highly observant, and Mrs Norris was even better. The addition of Bubbles only made the team almost impossible to deceive.

To top it off, Bubbles attracted the attention of students who wanted to oogle and pet him. As they did so, they chattered on about things they noticed in the school, and Argus always paid careful attention to gossip. He knew that some gossip was based on fact, after all, and students tended to notice far more than they realised.

The Headmaster had seemed unusually perturbed by Argus' newest familiar, and Regulus suspected that Dumbledore believed it had been Argus who found the phoenix nest and allowed Fawkes to hatch out his chicks. What he didn't seem to realise was that Fawkes needed _help _to do so, or he wouldn't have been caught to begin with.

Then again, Dumbledore increasingly seemed to be suffering from some kind of mental deterioration. He constantly muttered to himself, made odd gestures in the air, and sometimes walked around with his wand tucked behind his ear like a writing instrument.

Reports of Dumbledore's odd mannerisms made their way back to Moody and Shattenjäger, and the two Aurors suggested having a good sit down with the rest of the masters over the issue, and so they did.

The first meeting was around the dining room table at the new House of Snape. Orion and Gilford had woven so many unplottable and untraceable charms into the wards on the place that even some of the Aurors had difficulty finding it without first Flooing to Barberry's estate and then walking the path to get there.

After much avid discussion, they determined that something had gone very wrong for Voldemort and Dumbledore was tied to him in some way. As Voldemort was getting more and more unstable, so, too, was Dumbledore. A captured Death Eater, Erebus Montague, had been caught trying to break into Gringott's while under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion. When caught, he had begged to be killed at once rather than face returning to his Dark Lord unsuccessful and empty-handed.

Things were not looking very good for the faithful followers of the Dark Lord. The man talked of a great many things in front of the Wizengamot in exchange for a very heavily guarded cell in Azkaban. The Dark Lord was murdering people left and right in an attempt to do something magically, but so far it wasn't working. He had his Death Eaters bring him innocent children from all over Britain so that he could murder them ritualistically. Something wasn't going "right" for him, however. Whatever magic he was attempting to harness had been repeatedly failing him.

In the meantime, Albus Dumbledore was descending into a muttering and paranoid daily routine, and Regulus was glad to hear that Lily had been doing much better in her Occlumency lessons with James. She was far from perfect, but between the drops she was taking and the tentative grasp she had of the skill's basics, she was good enough shield against surface scans. Dumbledore had taken to interrogating Fawkes as though he could reply to him in the Queen's English, but the phoenix just stared at him blankly and warbled the _Twa Corbies_.

The drama with Lily's shameful snog attack of Severus had spurred on the Board's approval of mandatory Wizarding etiquette classes for _all _first years. The classes, which were to take place in each House's respective Common Rooms were to cover everything from basic etiquette to wizarding-specific etiquette. The hope was to help close the knowledge gap between Muggle-borns and the magical families and prevent simple misunderstandings from turning into disasters. Slytherin students found the entire thing rather amusing, as they had been, unofficially, performing such education from the moment the new Slytherin first years hit the dormitories.

Regulus shook his head at all the thoughts rolling around in his head. His nose told him there were more important things to worry about— and whatever that delicious smell was was right at the top of his list.

He shambled along the edges of the Black Lake, wrinkling his nose when he got a big whiff of a dead fish decaying on the shore. He didn't mind fish, usually, but this one smelled particularly rank. He padded along, allowing his sensitive nose to lead him straight to where the origin of that delicious smell could be found.

Regulus made his way up and over a hill that overlooked a very impressive collection of colorful wildflowers that reminded him of the outer gardens at his sister's new home. There were a number of white, wooden boxes on platforms, which he belatedly realised were beehives.

_Honey_.

Regulus lowed softly. No wonder his nose was so excited. It didn't smell like any ordinary honey, however. There was something _different _about it. Something _exotic_.

A figure draped in white robes and a protective netted helmet was standing over the hives. They held a vine wand that was spewing smoke out of the end to calm the bees as she removed sections of honeycomb out of the hive.

Regulus watched the figure curiously, head tilted to the side. He had had no idea that there were hives out here, but he didn't normally patrol this area due to how far it was from Hogwarts. It was too far out from everything, and the centaurs made sure to keep trouble well away from _that _area of the forest.

The figure stopped smoking the bees after collecting about fifteen combs from the various hives. Her collection bucket was full of rich, amber honey that sparkled with magical infusion.

Ahh, so _that _was the secret. _Magical _bees! How fascinating!

The figure removed their protective helmet and long golden tresses fell to spill out over her slender shoulders. She turned towards him, her almost opalescent pale grey eyes sparkled in the sun. Her skin was also quite pale, but it glittered in the sunlight as though someone had showered her with fairy dust.

"Oh!" she said suddenly. "Hello there." She hoisted the large bucket of honey with her and picked up another bucket she had filled previously. "I wasn't expecting guests," she announced with a smile. "I suppose you could have some honey, but don't take them out of those hives over there. Those bees are quite angry, you see. Their favourite field of clover was just mown this morning. Try that one there," she recommended, pointing to a solitary hive a few feet away.

Regulus just stared at her, totally enraptured. Didn't she realise she was talking to a _**bear**_? Was it normal for her to talk to bears? Maybe he was the only one who thought it abnormal.

"Well, go on," she said with a shrug. "The bees are sleepy now because of the smoke, but they won't stay that way for too long. You might end up with a few uncomfortable stingers in your nose if you don't get to it straightaway. Their stings are a little odd. You'd end up being rather drunk for a few weeks, and you might spontaneously start singing in Yiddish. Not quite sure if it is _always _Yiddish."

Regulus shambled over to the hive and expertly opened the lid. Sure enough, the bees were all gathered peacefully at the bottom of the hive, literally taking a nap. She hadn't been kidding.

He lifted out the section nearest him and exposed a large honeycomb full of dark amber honey. It shimmered with magic, and it smelled positively… _divine_. He looked left and right somewhat guiltily and then ripped the comb off with his mouth. He then shoved the panel back into the hive and carefully replaced the lid, patting it down with his large paw.

She was smiling at him as he walked over to her, licking his muzzle to keep the precious honey from escaping his mouth, intent on keeping it right where it belonged. She extended her hand and wiped some honey from his muzzle where it was dripping a bit. "Missed a spot, here you go," she said, extending her hand to him.

Regulus found himself licking her hand clean even though his mouth was still very full of honeycomb.

Merciful goddess of honey. Make me your slave, and I will serve you _forever_.

"I'm Honey Lovegood," she said. "People tend to call me 'Homely'. I'm not sure why. My project with Professor Sprout is on the healing properties of raw magical bee honey. If you use it on wounds, they heal so much faster. If you eat it everything tastes like honey for days, but it acts like an analgesic and heals you at the same time everywhere, inside and out. I'm not quite sure what it does to bears though. I suppose you wouldn't really mind everything tasting like honey for days. Come to think of it, I wouldn't much mind it, either. I always loved those honey sticks from Honeydukes when I was a little girl."

Regulus chewed on the honeycomb he was carrying around in his mouth rather dumbly, just listening to Honey speak.

"Did you want to get some tea?" Honey asked, starting to move back towards Hogwarts. "I suppose the tea is more for me, as everything will still taste like honey to you."

Regulus shook his head and trotted right up next to her, taking the one bucket in his mouth by the handle.

"Oh, thank you," she said. "You didn't have to do that. I'm used to carrying honey buckets back to the greenhouse. Sometimes people put marbles on the shore to try and make me slip, but I've started to take the other path, and they haven't caught on yet."

Regulus lowed, the bucket in his mouth making him sound quite strange. He nudged her over to take the much shorter shoreline path, and she just smiled and obliged him.

"Did you know that squid are colour blind, but they can camouflage themselves to blend into their environment without needing to see?" she said casually as they passed the giant squid. "They have three hearts, which some might think is overkill, but I think it would be mighty handy in case one of them should decide to take a nap."

A group of students were coming towards them, perhaps seeing her on the way back from her trek, but the moment they came close, Regulus stood on his hind legs and glared at them, letting out a roaring bellow. Said group of students went stark white with terror, quickly turned tail and fled far faster than they had arrived.

Regulus continued to walk with Honey, keeping a sharp eye out for foolish interlopers and potential marble throwers.

As they approached the greenhouses, Honey smiled. "That was a bit different. I've never actually returned without incident before. Perhaps you are a lucky sort of bear. I should keep you around in case I need to play exploding snap or Chinese checkers. Wait here, please. I need to put up the honey, and you might scare the Fainting Marigolds. It took me weeks to get them to grow straight again after Frank Longbottom accidentally fed the poor dears fish emulsion instead of compost. It's understandable, really, they both smelled positively awful that week." She took the bucket from his mouth.

Regulus blinked and sat down, watching Honey walk off to return the honey. She returned after a few minutes wearing the blue and bronze uniform of Ravenclaw, having traded up her white protective gear for her everyday school attire. She carried out two cups of tea.

Without any fanfare she sat down beside him, putting down the cup for him and sipping her own. Regulus found himself grasping a cup of tea between his paws and sedately lapping at it with his tongue.

She said nothing more, seeming to enjoy his company and looking up at the clear blue sky. Time passed, and it could have been hours or days; Regulus didn't even notice. When they heard the bell ring off in the distance, signalling the start of the afternoon classes, she sighed. "I suppose I should go to class now, but I really enjoyed our conversation," she said. She took the empty cup from him and shrunk it down along with hers to stow them away in her robe pocket. She stood up and brushed herself off. "I'll see you around, Regulus," she said in a sing-song voice, floating up the path as though she didn't even have to walk.

Regulus just stared off after her, eyes wide and absolutely astonished.

Something amazing had just happened, and he had no idea what to think about that.

* * *

****A/N:******phew. *fans self* Um… *loosens collar* I may need a cool drink of water.**

*Severus' quote about forgiveness was from the late Thomas Szasz: psychologist, psychoanalyst and academic.


	42. April 1978 In Love and War

**A/N:** Be sure to thank **Dragon and the Rose** for Honey Lovegood. I cannot take the credit for the wonderful idea that is bound to keep Regulus on his bear toes!

* * *

To you know who you are: You know, if you don't like where the story is going, why do you continue to read it? hrm? It's obvious you don't like it, so if that's the case, feel free to go read another story somewhere that meets your needs, or, go write your own like I have. We all have what we like to read. I happen to like vivid descriptions of the world I see in my head (and that includes the fantastic furniture, thank you very much). Unless, of course, this isn't about leaving constructive reviews and instead lurking like a troll who just wants me to stop writing altogether because my feelings are hurt? I know I can't please everyone. Sorry you're one of them. Good luck finding something you want to read.

* * *

On a happier note, thank you all of those of you that have been so unconditionally supportive of myself and Rose's hard work. You guys are the best, and you make the negative things fade into the background where they belong.

**Beta Love:** Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 42**

**In Love and War**

_Monday, April 3rd, 1978. Waning Crescent 20%_

Hermione yawned and stirred and immediately felt Severus' arm curl snugly around her waist and pull her close to him. He pressed his face into her curls and murmured, still half-asleep. She smiled. Months had passed since their somewhat shotgun marriage, but the bond between herself and Severus had only become stronger.

Part of her was still a bit in shock over it all. Despite how close they had always been, a part of her had doubted whether Severus was even capable of loving anyone other than Lily Evans because she had seen the future him, still desperately in love with her until the very end of his life. Yet, even so, that future him had never known Hermione Ankaa Black. He had never known the kind of friendship with Remus that he had now. He had never known kindness from _anyone _other than Lily… and even that had an expiry date.

Hermione realised that it would kill her to forced back into that original world where Severus was dead, where the friend she loved existed only as a portrait, and that portrait did not, could not, love her. A world without Orion Black— the Orion Black that she knew and loved— would be a foreign and unspeakably cold world to her now.

Suddenly, Hermione apparently had a suckerfish firmly attached to her neck, and she let out a soft moan as her mate reminded her about so many _other _things she wouldn't have in her future-past. Severus' arms were around her as he clutched her closely, seemingly feeding off her neck or cleaning it of algae, she wasn't precisely sure which. However, it felt far too exquisite for her to complain. That was all she knew.

Hermione squeaked as Severus dragged her back under the duvet, her arms and head disappearing as though she had been sucked down into quicksand. Severus descended upon her with a growl that would have made Orion Black very proud.

Wasn't she supposed to _teach _today?

What _day _was it again?

Oh, _Merlin_!

She loved this man so much. Gah!

Come the end of Voldemort, she was going to work on giving the Weasleys a run for their money and ensure the House of Snape started off with a very firm and genetically solid gene-pool.

All coherent thought left her as far more distracting things did exactly that.

* * *

Remus was looking utterly smug as Hermione and Severus shambled out of their quarters. "Have a good night, you two?"

Severus grunted something that might have been either a rude comment or a type of coffee (it was rather hard to tell) as he shuffled off in another direction.

Hermione noted the impressive purple blemish on Remus' neck. "The question, I think, my darling Tuft, is did _you_ have a good night, hrm?"

Remus flushed a flattering shade of red that any phoenix would be proud to call their own. "Fine, thank you," he squeaked.

"You two going to set a date?" Hermione asked, brushing her hair back.

Remus averted his eyes.

"Remus?" Hermione said in a tone that normally came from Severus.

"She," Remus started and sighed. "She hasn't met my parents. Yet."

Hermione raised a eyebrow, inwardly wondering having the very name of Snape automatically caused certain distinctive mannerisms to stamp themselves upon her soul. "I see," she said neutrally.

Remus managed to look very sheepish. "I'm a bit _afraid _to have her meet my parents," he confessed. "She knows… how they treated me."

Hermione sighed, sitting down next to Remus as she put her arm around him. "Tuft, my very furry and wonderful friend. Sometimes the past is there to remind us how wonderful the present is. Take it from someone who knows."

Remus smiled a little.

"I think," Hermione said, "that she will have them wrapped around her little finger. You needn't worry."

Remus leaned into her shoulder. "You always know how to make me feel better, Ember."

Hermione smiled, flames flickering in her eyes.

* * *

It was standing-room-only in the House of Snape's dining room. Moody was gesticulating wildly with Amortentia fluttering her wings as she clung tightly to his shoulder.

"We _need _to know what he's up to!" he snapped. "We know he's connected to Tom Riddle. We know at some point, Tom Riddle parted ways with Dumbledore, that it somehow involved Ariana Dumbledore, who died, and some time after that, Tom became Voldemort. At some point, he began gathering Founders-related artifacts and transforming them into Horcruxes... after he made the first one with his diary. Not satisfied there, he made even more— a cup, a locket, a diadem, and a ring."

"All of which have now been dealt with," Shattenjäger noted.

"What's keeping him from making more?" another Auror asked worriedly.

"Sorry, Blackoak, I know you've been in Italy dealing with that barmy idiot trying to breed basilisks," Moody said. "Something happened… the purification of the Horcruxes instead of the destruction has somehow done something to Riddle. He _can't _make any new Horcruxes. From what that Death Eater, Erebus Montague, has told us, the man has been murdering both Muggles and magicals in a desperate attempt to rectify the situation."

"And what was done to the Horcruxes that allowed this?" Blackoak asked, leaning in with interest.

"Purification," Shattenjäger explained, stroking Elrond with his hand. "The application of phoenix tears releases the soul shard from the object, allowing us to deal with it in the most expedient manner."

Elrond pecked his hand when the Auror stopped stroking, clearly suggesting that he should continue his enjoyable attentions.

"What is the old goat up to?" Lucius said, stroking his fine snake-headed cane with his fingers. Habanero settled on his shoulder, causing the other phoenixes in the room shift their perches a little further away due to his persistent dragon breath.

Hermione ran her hand across the table, and the surface shimmered, changing to show an image of the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. "I believe you are familiar with the old story?"

Lucius' eyes widened. "_The Three Brothers_?"

Severus nodded, wiping his hand across the table causing the symbol to split into each item: the cloak, the wand, and the stone.

"I think it started with Grindelwald," Master Willowbark commented.

"Agreed," Master Highweather replied, stroking her hair impatiently away from her eyes. "Back when Albus first came to the Mastery Boards to learn, he was very curious about a great number of things, but he was very, very careful to only speak of certain small things and always spoke of different subjects with different Masters. Consequently, none of us thought much about it until we came together and realised they were all a part of a larger picture."

Master Teaworth nodded. "He was very interested in the story of Madam Eloise Mintumble, the Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries, and her very unfortunate trip back to 1402 and her subsequent return to the present."

Master Greenpetal stroked his black beard with his fingers. "He was also very interested in alternate sources of anchoring power, like a kind of magical battery." He drew on the table with his fingers and copies of a design were displayed over the table.

Barberry lifted his head from where he had been chatting quietly with Minerva. "The two of us have an idea about what he may be up to. Thanks to memories from Minerva—" he drew his hand across the table, which then displayed a memory of a wand and the device that had been constructed around the time-turner.

Minerva tapped the wand. "That is _not _Albus' original wand." She waved her hand over the table and pulled up an image of Dumbledore with Grindelwald.

Frowning faces spread down the table.

"He switched wands."

"That's not just any wand," Barberry said, pointing to a page from _The Three Brothers._ "That is the _Elder _Wand."

"And this," Moody said, tapping the table to show an image of the stone from the broken ring of Marvolo Gaunt. "Is the Resurrection Stone."

Murmurs went up and down the table.

Barberry stroked the purple phoenix on his shoulder as Razz looked over at Tuit jealously. Razz tugged on Barberry's ear for attention too.

"I think Albus is trying to assemble the Deathly Hallows as a means to some yet unknown end," Barberry offered. "It may have been a team effort with Gellert Grindelwald at one point, but after the death of Ariana Dumbledore, everything somehow went pear-shaped. It was shortly after this that the rise of Voldemort began, and, according to the diary, when something very bad happened between Tom and Albus."

"Was anything salvageable out of that diary?" Lucius asked curiously.

"After the purification, the pages were all revealed," Moody said. "I recommend that we all take a break to pass it around for people to read. It is something you will just have to read to believe. We can convene afterwards, if that is agreeable to you, Lord and Lady Snape."

Severus and Hermione nodded. "By all means. Please, help yourself to the food and drink. The garden is also open to you, and there are clean towels if you wish to partake of the hot springs while we wait. We have spare rooms if we wish to take a bit longer. There is no point in rushing through the readings. We want everyone to be fully informed."

"Thank you, Lord Snape," Blackoak said with clear relief.

Severus nodded, his black eyes flickering gold as the table broke up to discuss things amongst their individual groups.

* * *

_My dear Ariana,_

_If you are reading this, then you got my journal. I'm glad._

_I am learning so much at Hogwarts. I cannot wait to show you when I return for the summer. You've always been such a support to me, even when everyone at the orphanage would make fun of me. _

_I enchanted my journal so it would show up in the journal I gave you. That way we can write to each other without needing an owl. I learned the spell in the restricted section._

_I made a friend with a small blue snake in the greenhouse. I named her Sapphire because it's your favourite colour. I'll bring her home to you so you can take care of her this summer. We aren't supposed to have snakes at school. Just cats, owls, and stupid toads. Sapphire ate one the other day. I think it was some Ravenclaws familiar. She shouldn't let a toad just frolic around in the greenhouse like that. Serves her right._

_I told Sapphire all about you. She agrees to take care of you and wants to meet you. She's sad you won't be able to understand her, but I told her she's to be good to you. You're special. You're not like the others._

_Some berk made fun of my hair. I set his pants on fire. He went around slapping his hands over his trousers trying to get them off, and by the time he did, well, he didn't have much of his pants left. He hasn't made fun of my hair since then._

_Are you still helping the others at the orphanage? You came every day. I remember how glad I was when you showed up and told us all stories. I wish you could be here. I think you'd love to see the ceiling in the Great Hall. You can see the stars at night._

_I need to finish my homework. I'll write you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Tom_

* * *

_Dear Tom,_

_I'm so excited for you, my dear friend. _

_I told you that you would do well in school. Sapphire sounds like a wonderful snake. You've always been quite a snake-charmer. _

_I hope she gets along with Fern. That little adder has grown into quite a monster. Well, maybe not a monster, but she is sixty centimeters now, and she's eaten all of the rodents in the house. I take her out into the field to hunt when Aberforth is distracted. She hides in my hair and tickles my ear with her tongue. She's very sweet. I hope Sapphire gets along with her. _

_Sometimes I think Fern is sad because she's trying really hard to talk to me, but I just can't understand her like you can. It makes me sad that I can't somehow learn. Do you think if I had gone to Hogwarts when I was your age I would have been able to? _

_Aberforth found another adder in the paddock with his goats. He killed it and told me to be more careful. He says adders are dangerous. Fern isn't dangerous is she? She's so sweet to me! I make sure to hide her even better now. I don't want her to be killed. She's my only friend when you're not here. I __**miss **__you. I know you are off doing great things, but I miss you all the same. Aberforth says I'm too old to have friends your age, but I when I look in the mirror, I don't look as old as he does. _

_I wish I could have gone to Hogwarts. But Albus always said it's not safe. He says I can't control my magic. It's just not __**fair**__._

_Please write soon. It's so boring here without you. I think Fern says hello. She's licking the page. _

_Sincerely,_

_Ariana_

* * *

_Dearest Ariana,_

_Summer was so wonderful with you. It was really great getting to show you all the things I've learned. Your magic is getting better! I'm convinced that when I learn as much as I can from this place, I'll be able to help you learn all the things you didn't get to learn for yourself at Hogwarts. They __**failed **__you. I will __**not**__. I will never fail you. You never once failed me. I will do the same. I promise you. I __**swear **__it. When I graduate, we'll move someplace with a great view of the ocean, that place you took us on the field trip with the Orphanage. _

_I will teach you, Ariana. You'll never be alone anymore. You won't have to worry about your stupid brother loving goats more than you. You won't have to worry about Albus caring more about power than spending time with you. I will be there. I promise. Only a few more years. A few more years, and we won't have to wait until summer anymore._

_Albus is sending me to find things for him. He says it's important. I don't care, but he's teaching me things, and I will learn it all. Then, I will teach it to you. _

_I… miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Tom_

* * *

_Dear Tom,_

_Something is happening. My brothers are fighting. Gellert is here again too. They are all fighting. Gellert is saying there is a plan and they __**must **__stick to it. Albus says there is a "greater good". Aberforth tells me they are __**both **__idiots. He tells Albus that all he does is go off and leave me here like so much cast-off trash._

_I know Aberforth loves me, but sometimes I think I'm a burden to him. Do you really mean to keep your promise to take me away from here?_

_Fern and Sapphire are quite agitated. They refuse to leave my neck anymore. They bring me comfort when there's so much yelling downstairs. I __**really **__miss you when they are fighting. _

_I'm going to try and sleep. The house is finally quiet. I don't know where anyone is. That's ok. Fern and Sapphire are with me._

_Yours,_

_Ariana_

* * *

_No… No...nonononononono._

_She didn't mean to. She didn't mean to! She was __**protecting **__me!_

_She's so still… she's so terribly still… I'm holding her but she's so cold. So very still. _

_I did something. I— Aberforth shook me… He shook me. She struck at him. Fern didn't __**mean **__to! She thought… She was protecting me!_

_Tom, she's so still… she's so cold. I can't do anything. _

_Aberforth stomped on her poor body. Told me she was a dangerous asp. _

_Tom… tell me she'll be better. Tell me she'll be okay. Please. She's so cold… she so… (tear stains) My magic… if I knew magic..._

* * *

_Dear Ariana,_

_I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you needed me, on that night of all nights. Fern was a good friend. She was devoted. One more year, and I swear you will be my queen, and all serpents will know you as their friend. I __**swear **__it. It won't bring Fern back, but she will not have died in vain._

_Albus had me out learning about a family who has been handing down some sort of magical cloak for hundreds of years. He won't say what it's about, he hides __**everything**__, but I've tracked it down to a family called Potter. I know they have it, but I have yet to see it. I've been sitting in this bloody tree in the pouring, freezing, rain listening to them talk, laugh, and try to make babies. It's totally disgusting._

_One more year, my Ariana. Then, I will be free of this yoke, and you'll be with me._

_Yours,_

_Tom_

* * *

_My dearest Ariana,_

_We are now one, my love. I swear to you all that I am is __**yours**__. You have made the happiest man on this earth, and when my servitude with your brother is at an end, we will never be parted again. This I __**swear**__. The touch of your kiss is eternally imprinted on my lips._

_Soon. I will put a magnificent ring upon your finger that you will be very proud to wear. You will wear the locket of Salazar Slytherin himself on your lovely neck. I will place the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw upon your head as my queen. We will drink out of the cup of Helga Hufflepuff to toast our wedding._

_Soon, my love._

_Just a little longer._

_Yours eternally,_

_Tom_

* * *

_Tom,_

_I'm so scared, Tom._

_They are fighting again. _

_Aberforth told me he wants to take me somewhere far away. Somewhere that Albus can't find us. He say he's a misguided fool. They're yelling again. They are __**always **__yelling. I __**hate **__it when people yell. Mother was yelling when… why do they __**always **__yell?_

_I __**miss **__you._

_I have to close now. _

_Someone is coming._

* * *

_Ariana?_

_Please respond. A word. Anything._

_Tell me you're—_

_The pain… the __**pain**_…

_Ariana, please. Tell me you are okay._

_**Please**__._

* * *

_She's dead._

_All my dreams… dead. _

_Her face covered in sand… her arms hung limp beside her. Her eyes staring blankly into space._

_That man… he had the unmitigated gall to stare at me with pity. The man who might as well have… who __**did **__kill you._

_My precious Ariana._

_So close to my dreams, stolen._

_My body is on fire. It freezes my skin. My head is throbbing. My heart seizes. I can hardly breathe. _

_I will get you back, if I have to defeat Death himself. If I have to murder a thousand men to see your dear, sweet face again, I will do just that. _

_I am Tom Riddle no more._

_I am Lord Voldemort, and I will see the world burn to find you again, my darling._

_I __**swear**_ _it._

* * *

_He thinks himself so very clever, but I, too, am clever._

_My first murder has given me power— the power over Death. I will be immortal. I will see him __**burn**__. I will look into his eyes as he realises that he cannot kill me._

_I will kill again._

* * *

_The old man thinks he can use Peter against me, but he is a __**fool**__. I Marked the boy long ago. It was his idea to kill his own parents for the glory of his Lord Voldemort. Not mine. _

_Now, he trains him to be as I once was… the fetcher… the spy._

_But I have given Peter rings made of the old man's hair. His Legilimency will not serve him on Peter. I will have my spy, and I will know what he is up to. _

_When the time is right, I will cut him down as he cut down my Ariana. _

_He claims it was an accident, but I found the ring._

_I saw her, my Ariana._

_My beautiful, pure, innocent, Ariana._

_And she told me...__**everything.**_

_I sealed my dying grandfather under the floor of his pathetic hut and used him to guard my new Horcrux._

_I do not need to see a shade of her purity._

_I __**will **__have her again. Alive. Breathing._

_As she was always meant to be._

_Even if I have to murder everyone in Britain to get her back._

_We will be eternal together._

* * *

_I blame you, Albus._

_You dragged my Ariana to some lonely, Merlin-forsaken beach as you and your brother and that Grindelwald mongrel fought over the rightness of the world. You fought while Ariana cried and screamed and begged you to stop._

_I __**know **__it was your spell, Albus. _

_It was __**your **__spell that killed her. _

_I know, because I felt her __**die**__. I experienced her feeling of __**betrayal**__. Her thoughts of __**you. **__The brother who __**murdered **__her. _

_I will see you __**suffer**__, Albus. I will tear you from your coveted throne on the top of Mount Olympus. I will slay you as Fenrir devours Odin. I will see you beg on your knees for that death before I send you on to your final judgement._

_This I __**swear**__._

_Happy birthday, my love._

_(tear smears)_

_I miss you so._

* * *

_Did defeating your old... friend make you happy, Albus?_

_As you wrapped your hand around the wand that had once been his, did it give you a rush of the power you crave so much? _

_I know precisely what you are up to, Albus. Pity that wand was not the __**real **__one. You always were so __**condescending**__. You underestimate normal, everyday people. That is one of your greatest failings._

_I do not __**need **__the fabled Elder Wand to rake you over the coals._

_Let Garrick Ollivander keep his secrets close. _

_I look forward to watching your precious wand fail you just when you need it most._

_My Ariana… do you still think of me as I think of you?_

* * *

"I don't think I've ever felt so conflicted as to whom I see as the greater evil," Master Willowbark said after they settled back down at the table.

"Aye, Danon," Highweather said. "I don't think any of us expected this."

Orion stared into the table for a moment and looked up. "Both men seem to be focused on Ariana. One wishes to be the master of death; the other wishes to steal from him.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "The diary ended roughly around the time my father squirreled it away into his vault."

"Yet, it seems to have pointed us to the other Hallows," Moody said.

Shattenjäger tapped his fingers on the desk. "I will take my team to speak with the Potters. There is only one family of them left in Wizarding Britain, so we should start there. The odds of some random Muggle offshoot of the Potter family owning a magical cloak are rather slim."

Moody grunted. "I will take a team to question Ollivander, but I don't believe he'll be inclined to be particularly cooperative. But we have to try."

"It is important that the Hallows are kept from getting into the hands of either one of them," Orion added thoughtfully. However, it seems as though Tom does not care to possess any of the Hallows, as he is far more interested in _defying _death. Albus, on the other hand, seemed to want to _subjugate _Death, possibly as a means towards some mutual goal he shared with Grindelwald."

"I have contacts in Nurmengard," Blackoak offered. "I will speak with Grindelwald. Perhaps, there is more to this story we can glean from him. They say, when he was arrested, he screamed for months that he knew the truth about Albus Dumbledore. But Dumbledore was a _hero_. So most people didn't pay him any mind."

"Raving madness of the losing side," Highweather commented, shaking his head ruefully.

"In the meantime, no one approaches Dumbledore without having decent skill at Occlumency . Do not assign or send anyone who isn't an Occlumens to Hogwarts, no matter how minor or mundane the purpose might be." Moody barked.

Severus nodded to Barberry and added, "I have permission to brew the mind-shielding potion for our use. Everyone will be given a vial before you leave here tonight. One drop under the tongue every morning."

"_No_ exceptions," Barberry said firmly.

"I don't care if you are thinking about your daughter's birthday, your date for that night, or what colour your pants or knickers are," Moody growled. "_Take_ the potion. We want nothing plucked out of our minds just because we happened to walk by Albus Dumbledore."

Shattenjäger rapped his knuckles on the table. "Best to learn and use Occlumency to back it up. Even a little skill is better than none at all. It's safe to say those of us here are already trained, but if we _must _have people with us who we choose confide in for some reason, they _must _have both the training and the drops. Masters Teaworth and Armstead have volunteered to teach any anyone who needs to be trained. It won't be as good as having year's worth of experience, but it will be better than going into a wand fight armed with nothing but a treacle tart."

Moody grunted. "I will spread the word to the Auror Animagus teams. All of them should be prepared for being activated at a moment's notice and they need to know that it won't be for fetching someone's familiar out of the freezing ocean or finding lost babes in the woods."

Shattenjäger nodded. "Lord and Lady Snape, Mr Lupin, and young Lord Black will be able to spread the word to our other Animagi agents, if that pleases you. It will free you to attend to other matters."

"We need a way to identify ourselves to our allies," Master Greenpetal said. Sometimes a bright orange collar or an Auror's uniform just isn't enough. If you should send someone to me and I don't recognise them, it is customary to send them away. We will not always be recognisable to each other, nor should we be, but we should _always _be identifiable to each other."

"Wise idea, Marcus," Master Teaworth said thoughtfully, "but _what_?"

Meliton had been strangely silent as he took in the proceedings from the shadows, staying close to the open window where the night breezes kept him more comfortable. Tailkinker and Forge warbled from his equine back. "Far be it from me to presume, but I think the stars and planets have already given you the name to bear on your banner, my human friends.

The humans turned to look at the centaur curiously.

The clover honey-coloured centaur walked closer into the light. "Look around you. All around are signs of the blessings of time. Some of my herd sits amongst you. But on your shoulders sit the greatest symbol of all— the phoenix. They do not choose those are selfish or mad with power. They are the ultimate symbol of light that you need to bring hope to your people, your allies, and those you would wish to be your allies. Is this not so? The very table in front of you bears their image. Around this dwelling, hundreds more signs of their mark remain."

"Right, Order of the Bloody Pink Phoenix," Moody sighed as Amortentia affectionately preened his hair.

"Order of the Phoenix sounds noble enough," Shattenjäger said with a smile.

"You honour us with your presence, Meliton," Orion said, "and your wisdom reminds us that sometimes we forget to see what is directly in front of us."

The palomino centaur favored him with a small smile. "Albus Dumbledore's predecessor brokered a truce between my people and Hogwarts that has lasted many years. I will not see the home of our herd-brothers and sisters harmed, even from within, and to harm a foal is utterly barbaric. To harm one's family by neglect or malicious intent is also despicable. I will grant your Order of the Phoenix access through our territories. A member of my herd will escort you whenever you have need so as to prevent frightening our foals and mares with the sight of strangers or unfamiliar faces. I believe my herd-brothers and sisters will be amenable to teaching you the proper way to summon us."

Minerva, Severus, Hermione, and Remus nodded in agreement. "It shall be done."

"Not to question your dedication, Meliton," Master Willowbark said. "But how did a centaur get to this place without incident when some fully trained Aurors had difficulty finding this place?"

Meliton's ears flicked. "Didn't you know, my human friend?" Meliton said calmly. "Phoenixes can carry impossibly heavy things, and they _always _know where their family is."

Willowbark laughed, stroking his beard. "Touché, my centaur friend."

Hermione perked. "I have it!"

Severus and Remus stared at her curiously.

Hermione whispered to Fawkes, who was warbling _Foggy, Foggy Dew_. He scratched an itch under his wing, floofed his feathers, and deposited a small pile of flaming coverlet feathers. Hermione held the feather between her fingers. She tapped it with her wand, crafting it into a small hairpin. "Order of the Phoenix, right? Who says we can't play it up in style?"

"We could enchant them to be like the Animagus collars," Shattenjäger said. "If any of us are in trouble, we'll all be alerted. Each one can be tuned to a specific person, that way they can't be forged or stolen."

"I'll do it," Violet Vintender volunteered, raising her hand. "I know energy signatures and can tune them quite easily."

"Excellent, but, we can't very well pluck Fawkes for all his feathers," Sirius said.

Suddenly all the phoenixes in the room scratched at their wings and dropped a pile of randomly coloured flaming feathers.

Sirius' jaw dropped, and he gaped like fish for a few seconds.

Severus, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, materialised a single black wing and gave Sirius a solid whap upside the head.

"Ow!" Sirus exclaimed. "Dammit, what the hell was that for?"

"Being a dunderhead," Severus said, deadpan.

One flaming black feather drifted down onto the table.

Hermione snatched it up with a grin. "I want this one!"

Viktor warbled a laugh from Vinetender's shoulder as she tilted her head back and laughed wholeheartedly. "I may be blind, but I can still _See_. Who am I to deny any phoenix who wants to wear another phoenix's feather?"

Hermione stole a kiss from Severus, causing Regulus and Sirius to avert their eyes and blush. Remus just shook his head as though he had seen it all.

Orion grinned. "Well, now that business is taken care of, I'd really like to enjoy some of that new shipment of Earl Grey tea."

The phoenixes all warbled their approval as Tubby and Zilly appeared with tray of tea and homemade biscuits for everyone. Orion held up his cup and saluted everyone with a knowing smile just before every young phoenix piled on top of him, warbling with loving adoration.

"Order of the Phoenix Pileup," Moody noted. "What _is _it about that man?" Moody boggled.

Shattenjäger patted Moody on the back. Fear not. Once they get their fix, your pink friend will go right back to messing up your hair again, Alastor.

Moody rubbed his temples. "Glorious."

Violet Vinetender felt around for the piles of phoenix feathers in front of her and promptly set to work as the very first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix came to a clowe.

* * *

Beardog wrestled with Regulus, paw to paw, teaching him how to properly wrestle himself out of various holds. Regulus panted, grunted, and ended up flopped on his side, exhausted.

Beardog changed back into his human form and laughed. "Too tired, cub?" he chuckled.

Regulus shook his head. "Mercy, my Master. Mercy!"

"None of that silly master stuff," Stephan huffed. "Just Stephan. Call me master when you want me to cuff you upside the head."

Stephan Beardog smiled, summoning water to his hand and giving it to a grateful Regulus. "You're doing better, cub. _Much _better than before."

Regulus gave a short smile. "I hope it's enough for whatever comes."

"We do have a small advantage," Beardog said. "Our size and our ferocity will usually always give us a few seconds to drive our attack home before our target is prepared. Those few seconds can mean everything. Others may be smaller or faster, but if our attack connects, it tends to count for considerably more. Back it up with magic, and it is even more so. You must learn to save just enough energy to channel your magic behind your swat."

Regulus nodded.

Beardog refilled his water glass. "Your family is quite something. "I've heard of the Pureblood families and their tales, but until I met you father and your siblings, I never gave much account to it all."

Regulus smiled. "My Lord Father has never ceased to amaze us, and he's our own father," he reasoned. Regulus waved his hand. "You have some very talented Muggle-born recruits, Stephan."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like _that_," Beardog said. "I'm just saying that with most people and their families, you don't always see a strong trend or imprint. I'm a bloody prehistoric beast, but you don't see my kids coming out as bloody pterodactyls or anything."

Regulus sputtered. "We're _not _our father. Trust me on _that_."

Beardog laughed. "No, no. It's just— I don't know. I'm strong in Transfiguration magic. My mother? She was a Herbologist. She struggled with simply turning a matchbox into a pin, and once she accidentally turned her class partner into flobberworm… well, _half _of a flobberworm. The _bottom _half."

Regulus made a disgusted face. "Ew!"

"Yeah, she's not exactly proud of that, but get her around plants, and she can grow things that you thought were long dead. I don't even think I'm joking," Stephan chuckled. "Father claims that's why I get along so well with Violet. I see my mum in her."

Regulus arched an inquisitive brow. "Do you?"

"What? Oh! Hell, no," Stephan exclaimed. When it comes to growing plants the usual way, like my mum, Violet can't manage to get a seed to germinate. It's when she _sings _that everything is completely different. Mom can't carry a tune to save her magic. Dad can't either, and my poor, abused ears will vouch for that."

Regulus grinned widely.

"My brother is so unmagical, we used to think he was a Squib," Beardog said. "Until one day he he just walked up to a young dragon and it followed him around like a bleeding puppy. I swear to _**Merlin**_. Give the boy a dragon, and he'll have it eating out of his hand in two minutes. He's something else. Ironically, he can't ride a broom to save his life, but he can ride a dragon because they just let him."

Regulus smiled broadly. "I think your family is plenty magical. Not sure why you think mind is so special."

Beardog shook his head. "I can't put it in words, Regulus. There _is _something special about your family. I've met Blacks before— social functions and the like— and they talk the talk, but your father? He walks into a room and I feel like I should have showered and shaved and put on my best clothes before daring to drop down and grovel at his feet."

"He's really not _that_ bad," Regulus chuckled.

"And your sister?" Beardog commented. "She pulled me and Violet out of our nightmares when we couldn't fight our way out of them ourselves. She was just there in her burning glory, and afterwards she just smiled like it was nothing."

Regulus shrugged. "To save a friend and ally shouldn't even be a thought. It is just done. She of all of us, protects. She gets that from father. Me? I talk my way out of or into trouble, depending on the situation."

"I hear your brother is the one in trouble, usually," Stephan snorted.

Regulus sighed. "Yes. He's, well, getting better. Slowly."

Beardog patted Regulus on the back. "It's all good, Regulus. We all have our family, and if we're lucky, we get along with them. Everything else is just icing."

Regulus grinned.

"Alright, lazy bear. Up!" Beardog commanded. "Back to battle." The Animagus towered above him in his Arctocyon form.

Regulus chugged the last of his water and rose up to meet him as a grizzly.

The game was _on_.

* * *

_Saturday, April 22nd, 1978 Full Moon 100%_

"You're doing much better, Lily," James said as they sat on a picnic blanket by the Black Lake, "but I can't be the one to test you. I can sense you have it up, but I can't _read _you. You'll have to have Severus or Hermione check your shields."

Lily flinched visibly.

James sighed. "Still not quite over that, are you?" He passed her a sandwich.

Lily took the egg salad sandwich and tore into it hungrily, shaking her head. "It's just…"

"You can't keep _avoiding _them, Lils," James said gently. "When I did those horrible things while I was all drugged up on the Malevolent Mixture? I had to grovel in front of a _lot _of people begging for forgiveness. I couldn't even remember what I did, but I _still _had to apologise. My parents are still apologising for my acts even now, and they know it wasn't really my fault. I still did the stuff I did, though. I was still—"

"Used," Lily said.

"Yeah."

"He was my best friend, once," Lily confessed. "Then, one day, I decided I wanted to be my own person, and we slowly drifted apart. I didn't want to lose him, but, at the same time, I didn't exactly want to be seen with him either."

James frowned, tilting his head in confusion.

"I know it's a bit contradictory," Lily said with a sigh. "I don't really understand it either. I think— I think I wanted him all to myself. To be there, as my friend when I wanted him to be because in my head he'd always been there before. Yes, I was starting to branch out and do new things with new people, but I didn't want _him _to branch out and do the same."

"That sounds pretty selfish, Lils," James told her honestly.

Lily sighed. "I can see that… now. James, please, can you please just test me?"

James sighed. "Okay, but if I can't see anything, you have to be tested by Severus and Hermione. You _have _to Lils. You know they are coming this way anyway. Today was the day they were supposed to start."

Lily fidgeted. "I'd just… feel better if you did it first so I could just tell them straightaway if I failed with you."

James looked at Lily with some pity. "I only learned Legilimency with Sirius so we could test each other. I'm about as subtle as a drunken hippogriff wearing jingle bells and pulling a sleigh through a china shop."

Lily gave him a pleading look.

"Okay, okay," James acquiesced. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. "Legilimens!"

Lily fell backwards with a cry, and James grasped at his head in pain.

"_Merlin_, I'm so sorry," James apologised, flushing a very deep red. Images of Lily doing some very private things to him had filled his mind.

Lily's eyes were very wide, and her skin was practically purple with embarrassment. "Oh my god! James… I wasn't ready. I— I'm… bloody hell, please just _**murder **_me!"

James coughed. "So, apparently you _do _like me," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Suddenly, all of the macho bravado and smugness was right back on his face.

"Not when you're like _that _I don't!" Lily snapped, and then covered her mouth with her hands.

James pouted theatrically.

Lily slumped. "When you act like a _normal _person… here, teaching me stuff. Talking to me about things that have nothing to do with your grossly overinflated ego. I _like _you. You're funny. Considerate. But, when you puff up and act like a total arrogant arsehole, I want to hex you into the Black Lake as a codfish and let the giant squid give you a great, big hug— with his _mouth_."

James stared at her, more than a little wide-eyed.

Suddenly, he just started snickering. Then _she _started snickering. They kept on snickering together until they were both laughing hysterically, almost breathless with mirth and flat on their backs on the picnic blanket.

"James?"

"Hrm?"

"Do you see me _ever _really fitting in the magical world?"

James turned his head to stare at her ear. "What?"

Lily sighed and stared up at the clouds. "Do you ever think it will feel _natural_?"

James folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the passing clouds, thinking hard.

"I think, with some things, you'll never feel the same as someone who was born with a talent," James said. "You know, how some people are just really _good _at DADA and some utterly pants at it. You can learn it, even get sort of good at it, but there will always be someone who makes it look so bloody _easy_. You have to work your arse off at it but they seem to just _get _it with no real effort. That doesn't make you _defective _or anything. It just means that you appreciate what you have more because you had to really _work _for it. Usually, people who don't have to work for something don't seem to ever realise what they have until they lose it. People who work hard for it… they know every single painstaking step to the top."

Lily turned her head to look at him in astonishment. "James, is that _you_?"

James rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. "Shut it., Lils. I can think _too_, you know."

A dark shadow was suddenly upon the pair.

James and Lily looked up to see Severus and Hermione standing above them, the black robes billowing out behind them in the spring breeze.

"Oh god, just murder me!" Lily wailed.

Twin eyebrows rose as the two apprentices stared down at them.

James sat up and grabbed an apple, biting into it unconcernedly. "She's ready for you!" he announced and disappeared up the path, blithely whistling a happy tune.

Lily glared up the path, trying to stare a hole into James' back. Then she turned back around to face her fate and swallowed hard. "Um. Hi."

"Mr Potter sent us word that you were ready to be tested," Severus said, his dark eyes blank and his face set like stone.

Lily swallowed hard again, her nervousness almost palpable. "I believe I'm ready."

Severus pulled his outer robe closer to him in an habitual motion, his long, pale fingers reaching like the skeletal hands of Death over his deep black robes.

Lily stared at him and suddenly felt so very young and scared. Severus, the boy that was her friend since they were little kids, had grown up. He had grown up, gotten married, and was sickeningly responsible. She felt so terribly childish and unworthy in comparison, despite all she had done.

Would he have been married now it it not been for her horrifying social gaffe? What if he had? Did it even matter? Perhaps that stony, cold silence that seemed to bore into her soul wouldn't feel quite so harsh and unforgiving.

Severus looked down at her past his aquiline nose. His eyes were so very black that she couldn't see his pupils. His dark hair framed his smooth, clean-shaven face. He was not attractive, at least not in the way James was. His face was not charismatic. The lines of his jaw were sharply tooled, and his cheekbones were high, strong and very visible. Oily strands of his hair fell lank across his face, shielding his eyes from the sun ever so slightly. His hair… was still the horribly pseudo-greasy mess that she had inadvertently caused by experimenting on it, month after month, for her entire first year of brewing shampoos and conditioners.

He turned and gazed towards Hermione, and it seemed like they were having some sort of intimate conversation without speaking a single word. Their eyes connected, their brows moving, and lips twitching every so often as if they were having a discussion. Severus looked down into Hermione's face with hardly a change in his expression. It was the same as he did with Lily herself, yet, when she looked at Hermione, she saw such a clear warmth in her gaze as she looked into Severus' face. She looked at him in a way that made Lily feel jealous just by seeing it. Then, Lily suddenly felt extreme guilt for feeling jealous of the witch who had almost _died _due to her clueless actions. She turned her head away, ashamed.

"You have a choice between Severus or myself," Hermione said after a long silence. "I guarantee both of us are fully qualified and thorough."

Severus' lip curled slightly. "Or, you may choose to have both of us check, to be somewhat more… thorough."

"I would," Lily said tentatively, "prefer if Hermione did it, please."

"As you wish," Severus agreed, his eyebrow lifting into his hair. He turned to Hermione, tracing her jaw with his long fingers. Slowly, he lowered his head to hers, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I will walk by the lake, my Lady wife."

Hermione smiled at him. "Enjoy your walk, my Lord husband."

Severus' lips quirked upward ever so slightly as he turned on his heels and departed, his robes billowing behind him.

"Hermione?" Lily asked.

Hermione tilted her head.

"You always called Severus by name before," Lily puzzled. "Why do you address him so formally now?"

Hermione's lips curved upward slightly. "We are one, he and I. He, my Lord husband, and I, his Lady wife. It is… respectful to acknowledge that bond in public."

Lily looked confused. "Is this really public?" she queried honestly.

Hermione's eyes flicked upwards as she thought a moment. "Among family, both blood and non-blood family members, all those we are close to and trust intimately, with such we may be more casual in our address."

"Aren't family and blood relations the same thing?"

Hermione smiled slightly. "Family is not always blood-related. And not all blood family members are trusted as such."

"So, even at school, you use titles?" Lily reiterated, confused.

Hermione nodded. "I am happily married," she acknowledged. "Should I not show my husband the proper respect he deserves by publicly acknowledging and reaffirming the bond that we share?"

Lily seemed to chew on that awhile. "I will admit that I cannot imagine my parents ever speaking to each other so formally."

Hermione tilted her head. "I know it is… a somewhat foreign concept to you, Miss Evans. Believe me, I do. You, and all the Muggleborn witches and wizards who come to Hogwarts are were never briefed on even the most basic courtesies of Wizarding Britain and in that you were all done a grave disservice. I had tried to help you with this, as did my Lord Father. What we were not aware of is that our efforts were being deliberately sabotaged by our very own Headmaster."

"Imagine this instead," Hermione clarified. "If we were to take a field trip into Muggle London. You would know where all the banks were, the best places to eat, which places to tip, which places to avoid. You would know what words to say, when to ignore someone when walking along, and when it was polite and safe to nod your head and say hello, good morning, afternoon or evening. The language would be the same, yet, can you imagine most of the Wizard-born and raised members of Hogwarts trying to get on in Muggle London? To even try to take the bus? Use a bank machine? A telephone? To have the slightest idea of what a cross-walk is for? How to hail a taxi? To know the difference between 'excuse me' and 'pardon me'? How to order and pay for a cup of coffee or tea? How to appropriately dress for any occasion?"

Lily seemed to be in deep thought. "But _you _know all of those things."

"So does my Lord husband," Hermione concurred. "Most Wizard-born would not have the first clue, however. I am… something of a rarity. Surely you noticed this by watching most of the people at Hogwarts."

Lily frowned. "It's like learning a new culture in a different country."

"It is _exactly _like that, Miss Evans," Hermione explained. "I think, because you speak the same language, you forget that this is an entirely different world. You can be apart it. You _are _a part of it, but, it is like traveling to Rome or Tokyo. There are some things you must learn to do so as not to insult the people who have lived there for untold generations. Think of Scotland or Ireland. Or the United States and Canada. They may _speak _English, but do you ever doubt that they have a totally different way of life? A completely different history?"

Lily chewed on her bottom lip as she considered that. "You really _don't _mean to insult Muggle-borns, do you?"

Hermione let out a soft exhalation of breath. "Every bit of magic in the world is something to celebrate. It is just important not to forget that Wizarding society spans back for many centuries. Did you know that Hogwarts was founded during the Dark Ages? How many schools can you name in Muggle London that can trace their history back that far? Wizarding families are proud because they are a part of something that spans a great many lifetimes and generations."

Hermione looked upward, seemingly wistful and pondering something very seriously. "I was once very oblivious of the dynamics of the two different worlds, and then I was given the chance to pull my head out of the sand. With a little help, I learned. I adapted. I grew up. I took responsibility for educating myself. I asked many questions. There is nothing wrong with not knowing. There is a lot wrong with not asking when you do not know."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Lily blurted out. "I'm _so _sorry for almost killing you. I really am. I hurt Sev, and I hurt you. But I promise, I really didn't mean to."

"I accept your apology, Miss Evans," Hermione answered. "Penance, however, is separate road that only you can determine the beginning and end."

Lily squared her shoulders decisively. "I'm ready to start," she asserted, sounding far more resolved than she actually felt.

"Very well, Miss Evans," Hermione answered as she splayed her hand gently across Lily's face. "Then let us begin."

* * *

"Block me," Hermione said calmly.

"I can't even feel you," Lily confessed.

"Block me, Miss Evans," Hermione said. "I assure you that I am seeing you pour itching powder into your sister Petunia's favourite dress."

Lily balked and twitched, starting to sweat as she desperately tried to focus.

"Better," Hermione said. "Block me again."

"But—" Lily protested. "I can't even tell where you are!"

"Feel for a kind of mental itch that you cannot quite reach," Hermione instructed. "As you think of that, you will be able to sense it. You must head it off. Instantly. Block me."

"Ergh!"

"Touching, I'm sure Mr Potter will truly enjoy having silky smooth hair," Hermione divulged. "Block me."

Lily fidgeted.

"Eventually Madam Pince is going to realise that _you _were the one running out of the library with a sizable bulge under your robes," Hermione commented. "Block me."

Lily grunted.

"Startling bright pink unicorns on your knickers," Hermione drawled. "Were you three?"

Lily gasped and held her head, flushing with embarrassment.

"I'm not sure that they encourage co-ed bubble baths in the prefect's facilities, Miss Evans," Hermione murmured.

Lily cried out and slammed down every shield she could, forcing the annoying, niggling tingle out of her brain. "No!" she yelled.

Lily stared at Hermione in pure embarrassment, doubled by the fact that she had physically shoved Hermione away from herself out of pure instinct.

Strangely, Hermione was looking at her with a placid, almost approving expression. "Congratulations, Miss Evans," she said with a curl of her lips. "Now, do it _again_."

Lily's eyes went wide as she realised Hermione was reading her without touching her face. "You—!"

"Headmaster Dumbledore does not need to _touch _you, Miss Evans," Hermione said. "Nor do I."

Lily whimpered softly as she felt the pseudo-tingle in her mind again, but this time she felt it more strongly. She focused anew. She _would _succeed. She _would _prevail. She _would not_ give away every embarrassing secret she had regarding that damnable James Potter!

Lily didn't noticed Hermione's slim black eyebrow arch high into her hair the very instant she thought of James.

"I strongly recommend you block me," Hermione mused.

Lily exploded. "_**Get out!"**_

"Make me," Hermione said calmly, ignoring her outburst.

"Erugh!" Lily steamed, focusing, reaching, grasping, and clawing to defend her own thoughts.

"Naughty conversations," Hermione volunteered, "but they don't bend _that _way."

Lily's horrified eyes grew as wide as saucers, and, finally, she successfully threw Hermione out of her mind for a second time.

"Remember that feeling, Miss Evans," Hermione said. "As embarrassing as that was, _remember _it. Hold on to it. Summon it, and use it to inspire you protect yourself. Do this unerringly. Every single time."

Lily stared into Hermione's grey eyes and simpered, "Do I have to remember that _particular _memory?"

Hermione's amusement reluctantly tugged at her lips. "It seems to work especially well for you."

Lily flushed as red as a beet.

"See?" Hermione commented. "It's working."

"I don't want _that _to be what makes it work!" Lily protested, throwing her head into her hands in sheer mortification.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest in a very familiar gesture. "Alas, Miss Evans. I fear that your success rides on just how powerfully you remember your embarrassment. Look at the bright side. It could be _another _emotion."

Lily stared at Hermione uncomprehendingly.

Hermione arched a brow back at her with a knowing little smile.

Lily flushed with even deeper embarrassment.

"There, you see?" Hermione congratulated her. "It works every time."

Lily slumped. She had finally succeeded. Why did she feel so inexplicably… relieved?

Suddenly, Lily realised that it could have been so much worse. Severus could have been the one browsing her memories just like flipping through a stack of albums trying to decide which one he wanted to buy. Lily flushed a very bright shade of Gryffindor at _that _decidedly uncomfortable thought.

Hermione smiled knowingly at her. "Excellent."

Lily's eyes widened as Severus suddenly appeared at Hermione's side just as if he had known exactly when Hermione had finished with her. How did he _do _that? Thinking about Severus browsing through her brain caused her to flush red again.

"Hn," Severus sniffed. "Acceptable."

Oh, _crap_! Please, don't think about James. Don't think about James. Don't th—

Lily turned an unsightly shade of purple and looked positively constipated with her desperate effort to prevent further humiliation.

Severus gently brushed a few curling tendrils away from his wife's delicate ear. "My Lady wife," he purred. "I believe we can leave Miss Evans to her thoughts at long last."

He extended his arm, and Hermione looped hers around his. The pair walked the path back towards Hogwarts, leaving Lily to her relief, embarrassment, and absolute exhaustion.

She was so going to _strangle _James Potter when she saw him next.

Lily lay back on the picnic blanket, spread eagle, arms extended as she stared up at the sky.

She'd strangle James later… when she could feel her legs again.

* * *

James returned carrying a large picnic basket stuffed with whatever he could grab from the Great Hall's tables. He had made sure to grab an entire plate of double chocolate chip biscuits, some chocolate fairy cakes, and walnut fudge brownies. It never hurt to be extra careful when soothing one's prospective witch.

He found her lying completely passed out in the sun, her face quite pink with an impressively nasty sunburn. That was going to require a fair bit of assistance from Madam Pomfrey, he knew from painful experience. At least she hadn't had Sirius there to draw obscene doodles in sunscreen on her skin. Having to explain to his Head of House why he had certain anatomical drawings on his forehead had not gone well. Then again, Frank Longbottom once had some lewd phrases written in Transfiguration alphabet on his arms and had to wear long sleeves in the hottest part of August. Sirius swore it wasn't him that did it. James was still straddling the fence on whether or not to believe him.

"Hey, Lils," James greeted, sitting the basket down. "I hear your Occlumency session went really well."

Lily's face went very red despite being a rather ominous shade of pink to begin with. She sat straight up and began to beat on him with her bare hands. "James Potter!" she screeched. "How _dare _you leave me alone with two highly experienced Legilimens!"

James winced, shielding his most important bits by turning his side to her and ducking his head. "Ow! Ow! Stop! I'm sorry! Dammit! I thought it would be _better _for you to be alone! I mean, if either of them pulled out some memory and shared it with you, then I'd know it too!"

Lily's hands abruptly froze over James and she flushed and turned her body away to hide her reddened face and the sudden panic in her bright green eyes.

"Why didn't you _tell _me!"

James looked somewhat puzzled. "Tell you _what_, Lily?"

"That it would be so... _embarrassing_!" she sputtered.

James just shrugged. "I bared my most embarrassing bare arse naked moments of childhood to my best mate trying to learn Occlumency," James admitted. "Sirius is a great mate and all, but he's a dead awful Legilimens when it comes to subtlety. He just kinda ploughed into my brain and started throwing my memories around like a dog digging for his favorite bone."

Lily giggled.

"He said I wasn't much better, so we were pretty much even. But at least by the time we figured things out, it wasn't too bad when Severus and Hermione got to us," James admitted.

"Why not Remus?" Lily asked.

James chuckled. "He doesn't do Legilimency. It gives him a serious, inexplicable, and undeniable craving for peanut butter. _Lots _of peanut butter. He really can't stop himself."

Lily blinked and stared in astonishment.

James waved his hands. "Serious as can be, Lils. I couldn't even make this stuff up."

"Severus is actually the best one at it," James said with some thought. "You can't even feel him in your mind. He has to _tell _you he's there, and he has some seriously wicked range. He'll read you from clear across a room, and I'm not exaggerating at all."

"Hermione was," Lily testified, "actually quite gentle. I was… surprised."

"She's very good at tactile Legilimency," James replied. "She can pick up things just by brushing against you and you'll never feel it. She's not as good at the range though."

Lily fidgeted. "They can just go around and read people's thoughts? That's scary as hell."

James shook his head. "No."

Lily blinked.

"They wouldn't," he explained. "They would never intentionally invade someone's privacy like that. They _always _ask permission or have some arrangement like we did, where we preemptively gave them permission to do so. Otherwise, it would be like..." James stopped abruptly, cutting himself off and glancing away.

"Like what?" Lily wondered aloud, looking intently at him.

"Like mind rape, Lily" James told her, his face twisted in utter disgust.

Lily seemed thoughtful at that. "Oh. Um, so... why is this so important?"

James stared across the Black Lake. "There are secrets, Lily. Secrets that lives depend on need to be kept, well, secret. And no matter how much any of us may have wanted to share them with you, until you could shield your mind, we just couldn't risk it."

Lily stared at the picnic blanket. "Does this mean you can tell me _now_?"

"I can't tell you, Lily," James said. "They are not only my secrets to keep. But, when the time comes, you will be told. I promise you. Just trust me, Lils, okay?"

Lily looked into James' face, searching for the truth there. "Okay. I— trust you."

James smiled. "I brought you food, drink, and lots of chocolate," he said cheerfully, turning to pull the picnic basket closer.

Only the picnic basket was... _gone_.

Lily looked at him with confusion.

James stood up with a start, looking around frantically, only to see the tail end of a very familiar grizzly bear butt shambling off into the forest.

"You come right back here with that picnic basket, Regulus Black!" James bellowed. He was instantly a very large, very angry moose, and he was charging into the forest like the Hogwarts Express.

Lily listened to the horrendous crashing sounds in the forest and couldn't help but giggle to herself as she hummed the theme song to _The Yogi Bear Show. _

"He's smarter than the average bear," Lily snickered as she walked back to the school.

* * *

Regulus led James on a long merry romp through the forest, but moose were not known for particularly high observation skills when they were seeing red and crashing wildly through the wilderness. James kept going deeper into the forest, while Regulus circled around back to Hogwarts, popped out by Kettleburn's hut, and lazily shambled up the path to the greenhouses.

"Oh, hello," Honey greeted him as she sat propped up against a black plum tree. "I see you found yourself a picnic basket. I do hope it wasn't the flying kind. Those are quite troublesome. Though, I suppose, the diving kinds are worse because the food ends up becoming terribly soggy."

Regulus nosed her gently, dropping the loaded basket in front of her. He whufted.

Honey opened the basket curiously. "Oh! Chocolate, barbequed chicken and butterbeer. I've never had them all at the same time. I wonder if they go together well?" she speculated. "You managed to snag a cucumber and carrots too. Very considerate. You never know if you might need one to fend off bush fairies. I normally wouldn't mind sharing, but bush fairies always manage to steal your socks and shoes. Oddly, they aren't so fond of gloves."

"Professor Sprout let me add a number of the beehives closer to the school, and I think they like that location better. It might just be me, but I think they rather like the Fanged Geraniums, or maybe the Fanged Geraniums really like the bees." Honey paused and shrugged. "Either way, the bees seem happier, and the Geraniums stopped trying to teeth on the Venomous Tentacula, so it's a win-win situation."

Honey shared some of the fairy cakes with Regulus. "Tonight is a really special night. It's a full moon, and all the pond lilies will be blooming. It'll be perfect for collecting moonlily stamens."

Regulus lowed softly in genuine concern.

Honey shook her head. "I have special permission from the headmaster to collect them after curfew. They are very special. They only bloom during a full moon in May."

Regulus seemed to frown and made a sound to express his displeasure.

Honey soothed his shaggy head. "It's fine, Regulus. I've done it a couple times before. You're welcome to come with if you would like to watch, but it'll probably be really boring for you watching me pluck stamens with a pair of tweezers."

Regulus headbutted her arm.

Honey and Regulus polished off half of the picnic basket between themselves, and Honey leaned up against Regulus' furry side and stared up at the sky. The night was just chilly enough that Honey found comfort in his warm black fur.

"Well, there's the moon," Honey said as she stared up into the sky. "Time to collect the stamens." She slowly stood up and brushed herself off.

Regulus had just started to shake himself off when he heard rustling and running in the woods. He narrowed his eyes. It did not sound like a bull moose running through the woods. It didn't sound like a centaur either. He found himself well and truly wishing that his sister, Severus, and Tuft weren't enjoying each other's company hundreds of miles away on the east coast of Scotland like they did every full moon night.

A high, bloodcurdling howl reverberated in the air with its unnatural hate.

Regulus pushed Honey behind him immediately, rising up to his full height on his rear legs. He activated his Auror Animagus collar and scratched at it with his claws to send out the immediate assistance needed Auror distress beacon.

That howl could only be one thing. Nothing else held that sound of raw, unnatural hatred: an unpotioned, unpack-bonded feral werewolf. Somehow, one had escaped into the woods to change and had been lured to the school grounds and avoiding all the normally highly effective school gates and numerous protective wards.

How had this happened? Short of Gringott's, Hogwarts was one of the most well-protected, stringently warded, and impenetrable places in Wizarding Britain. Well, that and his Lord Father's house… and maybe now his sister's home. Werewolf business aside, how could anything get into Hogwarts without being keyed into the wards?

Regulus lowed softly, using his rear to push Honey back towards the greenhouse, praying that the side doors were all closed save the main door that they were, fortunately, fairly close to.

"Regulus?" Honey whispered his name with a touch of fear. All casual ease and whimsy seemed suddenly forgotten as a deadly seriousness took her over.

Regulus nosed her hand gently and then nudged her further back towards the greenhouse. She seemed to get the idea, but she didn't seem to want to go so far that she couldn't touch him, finding comfort in his massive size and strength. He could smell her fear. She _knew _something wasn't right.

There was a crashing noise as something ran headlong into the beehives and knocked them over. He could smell the honey, but even more importantly, he could hear the wrathful buzz of thousands of very irate magical bees that most decidedly did _not _appreciate their home being knocked over by a rampaging juvenile werewolf.

Regulus could sympathise.

Regulus shuffled slowly backwards, keeping Honey close but still moving in the right direction, towards the relative safety of the greenhouse.

The crashing sound became even louder crashing sounds, more angry buzzing, and the sound of semi-canine yelps as Regulus confirmed that there was, indeed, a werewolf attempting to come straight for them. Regulus decided that he needed to make sure the signal went out, and he shifted into his human form for an instant.

Honey yelped in surprise, and he winced apologetically. "Get into the greenhouse, Honey! It's a rogue werewolf!" He slammed his hand against his collar, causing it to glow bright orange, and then he shifted back into bear form just as the extremely angry, repeatedly beestung, thoroughly pissed off, semi-intoxicated werewolf came charging in their direction from the nearly-destroyed new hive area.

Honey fled and was in the greenhouse within seconds, while Regulus rose to his full height, cocked his paw back, let out an enraged bellow and swatted the werewolf squarely upside the head with a full-powered cuff mingled with the sheer fury of his magic.

_**CRACK!**_

The werewolf yelped loudly and staggered, somewhat stunned by Regulus' powerful blow.

This was no gentle Tuft. There was no muscular strength in the were's emaciated-looking body or sleekness to his coat to indicate and recent or decent meals. No, this werewolf was pitiful and clearly desperate.

The werewolf leapt, snapping at him, attempting to clamp onto his muscular foreleg, but Regulus remembered his lessons well. He rose up on his rear legs and then smashed his front legs down _hard _on the werewolf's head.

_**CRACK!**_

The werewolf snarled, yipped, and snapped mindlessly with violent intent. It was so messed up, it attacked non-humans as viciously as it wanted humans. Regulus could smell what he thought might be centaur blood on the were's rank breath. The werewolf continued to fight, driven by pain, hunger and mindless rage. It retreated only a little way in order to attempt a leap again, but Regulus was ready. He snapped his jaws around the werewolf's muzzle and crunched down. His forelegs wrapped tightly around the werewolf's body in a bear hug, and he crushed the werewolf with no pity whatsoever. He adjusted his grip on the werewolf's neck. He shook, shook, shook the werewolf's body and flung it to the side, giving a ursine bellow of rage.

The werewolf bounced a few times on the ground, giving a pained yelp each time it hit.

Regulus watched as the hateful creature tried to stand— still determined to fight. With no heed to its personal safety, it wanted past Regulus to the greenhouse where Honey was hiding.

_**Zing! POP!**_

_**Zing-zing! POP! POP!**_

Regulus saw the alert signals of the team of Aurors who had apparated just outside the anti-Apparition jinx boundaries.

Backup was coming.

_**Zing! POP!**_

Another went up and another.

Regulus knew they would be fanning out to both search for any other possible victims as well as make their way toward him.

_Rustle. Rustle. _

Padding of multiple feet hitting the ground.

The werewolf howled, seemingly gaining a second wind from his momentary breather, and he rose up, gobbets of foam dripping from his mouth as his teeth bared in pure threat.

The werewolf leapt again!

Regulus rose to meet it, foreleg cocked back with which to deliver the blow he hoped would take the beast's head clean off its shoulders, if he could only be so lucky.

A cougar with a bright orange collar slammed into the werewolf at the same time as a oversized wolverine and a Siberian tiger. All three Animagi clamped onto the werewolf, using their weight, teeth, and claws to drag the beast inexorably down. The tiger roared, grabbing the werewolf by the neck as its claws raked down its back. The wolverine used its mass and leverage to knock the werewolf's legs out from under it.. The cougar screamed and ripped his claws across the werewolf's face. Regulus snarled and let loose a swat to the werewolf's body, knocking it and the rest of the Animagi a few feet into the air and back down.

"_**Stupefy!"**_

"_**Stupefy!"**_

"_**Stupefy!"**_

"_**Petrificus Totalis!"**_

"_**Locomotor Mortis!"**_

"_**Incarcerous**_!"

The werewolf lay still at last, tightly bound in ropes, stunned and petrified. Ten Aurors surrounded the incapacitated werewolf as the Animagi all returned to their human forms. Regulus stood up as a human, his sides heaving as he caught his breath as adrenaline played 'catch me if you can' in his bloodstream.

Two Aurors came up the path levitating the unconscious form of Rubeus Hagrid in the air beside them. They were tugging on his hairy coat to bring him along. He was covered in multiple bites and was bleeding profusely. He had a goose egg the size of a quaffle on his head. Mystery of how the werewolf got in through the gates, solved.

The mystery on why Hagrid was out by the gates during a full moonrise, however, would have to wait for later when the man was not unconscious, bleeding out, and being watched to see if he was going to turn into some freakish half-giant/werewolf hybrid.

_Merlin_, he hoped it was true that giants and even half-giants couldn't become werewolves. The thought of a rampaging half-giant werewolf was not anything he cared to imagine, much less go up against.

"You alright, son?" Auror Bonnefire asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Regulus nodded dumbly, feeling quite numb with exhaustion.

"Was anyone hurt?" Bonnefire asked.

Regulus shook his head. "No. She made it safely to the greenhouse."

Suddenly, Regulus felt slender arms being wrapped around him in a tight hug.

"Regulus! Thank Merlin! You _**saved **_me!" Honey exclaimed, burying her blonde head against his chest as she clung to him like a burr.

Regulus stood there, frozen in shock for a few moments, before his arms went around her and he pulled her tight, burying his face into her long, pale hair.

Professors McGonagall and Sprout came rushing out with Madam Pomfrey close on their heels. McGonagall was quite occupied with shooing curious students back into the school. Professor Sprout quickly enveloped a trembling Honey in a comforting hug and escorted her back into Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey rushed over to where Hagrid was bleeding heavily from multiple slashes and bite wounds.

Auror Bonnefire patted Regulus on the back. "So, are you going to owl your Lord Father and tell him you were fighting rogue werewolves making unauthorised visits to the Hogwarts grounds or should I?"

Regulus' eyes went wide and he looked around frantically for a deep hole to bury himself in. Werewolves be damned. His father was going to _**murder **_him!

Maybe his dear, loving sister would be kind enough to cry over his broken and battered corpse.

After she was finished hexing him, that is.

* * *

_**Hidden Bear, Crouching Werewolf**_

_A werewolf was found rampaging on the hallowed grounds of Hogwarts last night after a rogue bounty hunter named Grundy Vapourblock got knackered on Ogden's Firewhisky and failed to properly secure a newly-captured rogue werewolf, intending to use the captured were to lure in other werewolves in order to fatten his expected paycheque._

_The werewolf burst out of his inadequate confinement, attacked an apprentice who was bringing in the last of a very large shipment of dragon dung fertilizer and made its way towards the school._

_The werewolf, however, picked the wrong path to travel, as it went directly to a section of newly-installed magical beehives. The angry bees took their rage and offense out on the hapless werewolf, half-intoxicating him with their venom. The semi-drunken werewolf then attempted to attack a student, Honey Lovegood, who was out collecting the rare moonlily stamens for her Advanced Herbology class._

_Animagus Auror Regulus Black, luckily for Miss Lovegood, happened to be present and was able to prevent the young witch from being attacked and bitten. His timely defense allowed his summoned reinforcements time to arrive and and assist with the successful capture of the rogue werewolf.._

_The werewolf, whose name is currently unknown, seems to be a another unfortunate remnant of the sadly successful brainwashing and behavioral conditioning by the child victims of Fenrir Greyback. Greyback is said to have taught those children in his custody to attack and turn as many as possible. The werewolf in question is being sent to a secure facility where it is hoped he can be deprogrammed from the effects of the despicable Greyback's evil teachings._

_Due to this event, the Wizengamot is currently discussing a revision to the licenses for bounty hunters who hunt dangerous XXXXX creatures near populated areas. _

"_There is __**no **__excuse for this sort of thing happening near a school, of all places," Agatha Hammerfell stated. _

_Apprentice Rubeus Hagrid, a half-giant who was injured in the initial attack, is currently under watch in a special containment ward at St. Mungo's, just in case he should turn due to his injuries. Giants and half-giants are believed to be immune to werewolf venom, but Apprentice Hagrid has agreed to be temporarily confine due to an abundance of caution. He has been provided with the Wolfsbane Potion on the off chance a change should occur._

"_His special physiology shouldn't allow for lycanthropy," Madam Pomfrey stated. "It just __**doesn't **__happen. We'd have known if there were half-giant werewolves running around the world. You wouldn't exactly be able to miss them," the long-time Hogwarts matron pointed out._

* * *

A/N: Phew.


	43. April 1978 Shades of Greyback

**A/N: **And now a little interlude featuring Remus, because we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later.

**Beta Love:** Dragon and the Rose

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 43: Shades of Greyback**

_Tuesday, April 25th, 1978. Waning Gibbous 93%_

Remus sighed with relief. The dinner had gone surprisingly well. His mother looked good— happy even— and she and Tala had talked well into the night about Tala's work trying to rehabilitate Fenrir's legacy, the "bad seeds" he had sown, his remaining child victims. His father had remained stonily silent for the majority of the evening, but that was really nothing new. The only time Remus ever remembered his father being anything more than the cold, scowling presence at the end of the table had been when he was a very young child. Back then, he hadn't been a _werewolf_. That hadn't lasted for long. Thanks to one (now thankfully dead) Fenrir Greyback.

Remus smiled as Tala exchanged recipes with his mother for her favourite chocolate fudge brownies, one of the few things Remus remembered that his mother had _always _baked… even long after his transformation. It was beyond encouraging for him to see his mother happy, smiling and sharing stories with Tala. One, Tala got along brilliantly with his mum, and two, his mum was gladly sharing everything from recipes to picture albums of Remus doing hugely embarrassing things as a child, like painting with peanut butter on the walls and burying himself in dinosaur toys in the bathtub while wearing the lavatory plunger on his head.

Rum wasn't quite sure if that was the kind of thing he _really _wanted Tala to remember about his childhood self.

Tala excused herself to use the lavatory, and his father headed off into the house, probably to grab his pipe and lock himself away in the den, the better to thoroughly fumigate himself. His mother clasped his hand tightly and smiled before wandering off into the garden to tend her beloved moonlilies, one of the few Wizarding plants his mum chose to raise in her garden. Remus leaned back in the very comfortable patio chair, closing his eyes, and letting the night breeze chase his lingering case of nerves away.

* * *

"Do you think you can just waltz in here? Take off after all the hard work is done?" Lyall spat furiously. "You will _never _know what it is like to have a murderous beast for a son and have to support him every time he changes back. You. Will. _**Never**_. Know."

Remus' eyes abruptly snapped open and he heard his father's low, threatening whispers in the previously-still garden. Lyall Lupin's voice hissed in the darkness in a harsh, unforgiving whisper.

"I am not here to make light of what you did to raise him, Mr Lupin," Tala replied as politely as she could. "I _care _for him. I wish to be there for him."

"_**I**_ protected him. _**I**_ fed him. Where were _**you**_ when he tried to murder his own mother during his monthly change? Where were _**you **_when she left crying every full moon because she could not bear to see him transform into a mindless, slavering _**beast**_? Where were _**you **_when he bit himself every night because he couldn't bite his own family? You think _**you **_can judge me? You have no _**right **_to judge me. I do not _**like **_you. I do not _**approve **_of you. I will _**never **_approve of you."

"_**Enough**_, Lyall," Hope Lupin chastened her furious husband. "Enough."

"You stay out of this, Hope," Lyall growled lowly, turning to his wife and pointing a finger in unmistakable warning.

"No, Lyall," Hope answered. "I will _**not**_. I carried Remus in my womb for nine months. Nine months he was a part of _me_, and then, only a few years after he left that protection, he was taken away from me. Three days of every month he called to me. Three days of every month I cried out for him, but we could never _touch_. Tala can be with him. Walk with him. Hold him. Smile with him. Be _magic _with him."

"Hope this has _**nothing **_to do with—"

"This has _**everything **_to do with him, Lyall," she said. "Don't take your anger out on her just because she has the opportunity to be there for our son in a way that we never could."

Remus attempted to get up and attempt to stop the argument, but his father blew past him in a blind fury, practically bowling him over. When Remus managed to pull himself back up, he noticed that his mother and Tala were looking at him with rather conflicted expressions.

"Walk with me?" Hope requested as she opened the garden gate and gestured for the young couple to follow her.

Tala and a puzzled Remus could only slip through the gate to walk by his mother's side.

* * *

"I know I wasn't there for you, Remus," Hope said to her son, pulling her warm cardigan around herself tightly. "Not like a proper mother should. But I truly _wanted _to be. You have no idea how very much I wanted to be."

"Mum," Remus said. pulling her hands together. "I _never _blamed you. You didn't make me a monster. Greyback did that."

Hope shook her head. "But you're _not _a monster, my son. You never _were_. You were a terribly frightened child, in pain, lonely, and so very desperate to find some kind of relief for the gnawing pain inside of you. Craving contact and so very _alone_—" Hope stared off over the small park at the end of their part of the subdivision. Her mousy brown hair rustled gently in the wind. "That Fenrir— he _wanted _to turn you a monster. He _wanted _to turn you into a ruthless killer, but you were _never _a killer, Remus. You never could be. Even when the pain tortured you, twisting your poor little body into knots for the first time, all you ever really wanted was to feel the safety of your mother's arms."

"_Mum_," Remus looked closer at her, as though seeing her for the first time, his nostrils flaring slightly as he realised why his mother _always _smelled so strongly of chocolate, cinnamon, and raisins. There, just below the surface… hidden in plain sight was the scent of... musk. _Wolf _musk.

"_When_?" Remus gasped brokenly, falling to his knees in shock.

Her hands were then in his hair, attempting to soothe him. "When you first changed, I heard your tortured screams, Remus. I could _not _simply leave you alone and uncomforted. I... went into the room Lyall had locked you away in. I held you. I stroked your head as you turned. Your body thrashed, convulsed, and jerked. You had _no _control. None at all. Your teeth happened to graze my finger. It was just a tiny little scratch. Hardly noticeable at all. As you lay in my lap, quivering, your looked up at me with these huge, trusting golden eyes, your soft puppy fuzz framing your suddenly _foreign _face. You licked my hand, over and over. You squirmed your way into my lap and snuggled warmly into my bosom. You were still my son. You were _still _my beloved Remus."

Hope stroked Remus' hair so very gently. "You _knew _me. I knew then, there truly _was _magic in the world, even though I had not been born to feel it, not in the same way that you did. Even this poor, tortured pup my lap… he was my _son_. My sweet little boy."

She sagged to the ground beside him with a shuddering sigh. "Lyall came in and he saw me with you. He pointed his wand at you, screaming wildly, so _very _angry. He grabbed and pulled me by my hair to get me out of that cage, and you attacked him. You threw yourself at him, even with your legs still trembling from the change. Muscles still aching from the forceful tearing and stretching… You leapt at him, snarling. He thought he had managed to pull me out of there just in time. He said you would have surely _killed _me. He said you were nothing but a mindless _beast_, who had been _begotten _by a beast. I knew then, I _couldn't _stay with you, but I couldn't stay with _him _either. For come the next moon, I _too _changed. It was only a little scratch. Such a tiny, seemingly insignificant thing."

Hope rubbed her hand idly. She stared at Remus with guilt in her sad eyes. "I _wanted _to be with you, Remus, so very much. Instead, I drove out to my parents' summer cottage and locked myself away in the old root cellar, telling your father I was going to church to pray for my son. I knew that your father would _never _have accepted it; first losing his son and then his _wife _to the beast."

"That's why I _know _you will never, ever hurt Tala," Hope said. "I see the pure love in your eyes. The same look that you gave me that very first night after the change took you. You _remembered _me. You will remember _her_. You would _never _hurt her."

Remus embraced his mother tightly, hugging her thin body very close to him. "Why didn't you ever _tell _me?"

Hope smiled sadly. "You had more than enough guilt weighing you down, my son," she said. "It was not your fault, but I knew you would surely blame yourself, just as you are right now."

Remus winced, looking down, knowing full well that his mother was right.

Hope grasped his hands and placed Tala's over them. "I see you two so happy together. It makes _me _so very happy."

"Mum, you need to meet—" Remus grasped her hand tightly along with Tala's. "You have to let me take you somewhere special on the next full moon. "You shouldn't have to go through the change all alone. _Please_. I know you think that just because you can't do magic that you can't belong, but you will be able to belong… with _us_. With _me_."

Tala grasped Hope's hand. "You do _not _have to be alone. I've seen what being alone does to a werewolf. You've suffered so very long. Surely, it's time to finally put all that aside."

Hope shook her head. regretfully "I can't go anywhere magical," she said. "If Lyall ever finds out that I—"

There was the sharp scrape of a shoe against stone, and Hope Lupin's face immediately paled to the stark white of horror.

"So Fenrir wasn't satisfied with ruining my life by turning my son into a raving beast under the full moon?" Lyall Lupin snarled, pointing his wand at them. "His taint infected my _wife _as well?

"Lyall, _please_," Hope pleaded, standing up and attempting to shield her son and his witch from her absolutely _livid _husband.

Lyall turned his wand to her and raked his gaze over Hope with clear disgust. "I _**slept **_beside you. You _**dishonour **_me. My werewolf son casts a stain of dishonour upon my good name and _**now **_so does my wife."

"He was just an innocent baby," Hope pleaded her case. "There _**is **_no dishonour!"

"There is no cure for his _**taint**_!" Lyall snapped.

"I may not be magical, but we've all seen what Remus is capable of!" Hope said. "He _**saves **_people. He's doing so well in school. He's made a fine name for himself!"

"On the back of _**my **_good name," Lyall growled, "because I protected his foul, dirty little secret. Then, he goes off and pretends that he's some skilled Animagus instead of the unspeakably foul _**monster**_."

"He is a skilled _**wizard**_!" Tala interjected, unable to hold her tongue anymore. "He's talented, compassionate, and brilliant at what he does!"

"Beast lover, are you?" Lyall hissed, turning his snarl towards Tala. "Lie with _**monsters **_will you? Maybe pop out few pups like a good little slave of Fenrir Greyback?"

Remus' eyes flashed vivid gold with fury and he stood in front of Tala, his stature instantly going from his more accustomed subservience to his father to something decidedly far less so. "You take that back, _father_."

"Or _**what**_, Remus?" Lyall challenged. "You'll _**bite **_me? Just like you did to your mother? Maybe I can go stand in line for my potion with my wife, and we can be a pitiful little werewolf family together?"

"Why are you _**doing **_this, father?" Remus exclaimed. "What have I done that has made you so terribly bitter? We have a Wolfsbane Potion that helps werewolves to have normal lives with their families. They have normal jobs. They can go to normal schools. They can have friends without having to worry about possibly infecting them. Parents and children needn't worry anymore about attacking their own families! Isn't that what you _**wanted **_for me?"

Lyall glared at Remus. "I want _**my **_son back."

"I _**am **_your son!" Remus countered furiously.

"You are nothing but a _**beast **_wearing formal robes and uttering a parody of human speech," Lyall scoffed, glowering at Remus, his darkened eyes glittering with hate. "I will see that shame _**erased **_from my good name!"

Lyall's face twisted with a profound hatred that he made no effort to conceal. "I spent my fortune attempting to purge the werewolf taint from your infected body. I hid your foul secret, your curse. I let you believe that at least during some of the month that I felt you were... redeemable, but you _weren't _were you? Instead of knowing how very cursed you were. Instead of suffering like any cursed creature should have, you went off to Hogwarts and actually believed you could be normal like the rest of us. But you will _never _be normal."

"When Dumbledore came to me and said he would make sure you would be kept well isolated for your transformations, I was relieved," Lyall admitted. "You wouldn't go exposing our family's secret shame to others, but then you went off making _friends_. Then you end up falling in with a bunch of asinine fools who thought they could _help_ you and other beasts like you. And then… then… you make others like you think they are somehow _more _than just beasts. You have given them hope, an unrealistic and unattainable dream. Well, it ends here and now. Your attack on your poor, defenseless Muggle mother will _prove _that werewolves can never be trusted."

"_What—_?" Hope wrung her hands, the fear growing in her eyes. "No! Lyall, no!"

"Better yet," Lyall said, pointing his wand menacingly at his wife. "I think I'll just… hurry de-evolution along."

"_**Lunae Ortus!**_" Lyall yelled.

Remus and his mother fell to the ground, crying out in sudden, severe pain, writhing in agony. The burst of brilliant full moonlight from Lyall's wand transformed into a large, artificial full moon. The moment the unnatural rays hit them, they were forced to the ground, bodies convulsing, twitching, tearing, and reforming.

Remus whined and moaned, having never had a painful change since the pack bond he shared with Hermione and Severus had taken him into its warm embrace. This change was _unnatural_. This change wasn't _right_. He felt the wolf inside him screaming in pain, forced to go where it didn't wish to. Tuft's normal easy balance with Remus was being kicked, ripped and torn apart.

His robes were torn to shreds as his spine buckled, cracking. His hands twisted into paws. Large, distorted fangs bulged out of his mouth as his face extended into a lupine muzzle.

_Rage_.

_Rage._

_**RAGE!**_

Remus howled in pain. Fur was sprouting all over his body, but it was not anything the relatively gentle change that he had become accustomed to. His fur was ragged, matted, dry and unhealthy. His bones stuck out of his sides like an emaciated dog. His gums were oozing with blood. Red-tinged foam flecked out of his muzzle. His eyes, normally lit with a golden healthy glow, were a frighteningly bright shade of red, the color of fresh blood.

His limbs were horribly mangled, turning Remus into a twisted parody of himself, half man and half wolf. He hunched over like a tormented creature caught helplessly in between. His muzzle was completely hairless, just skin stretched over a lupine muzzle and covered with a disgusting, unnatural slime.

_**Rage!**_

_**Kill!**_

_**Pain!**_

Meanwhile, the screams of his poor mother haunted whatever part remained of Remus Lupin, the man. Her pain-filled whimpers and shrieks of pure agony as her bones snapped, reshaped, and elongated under her skin seemed to sear into his very soul. Her skin stretched, ripped, tore, and reformed as it re-knitted back in place. Blood oozed from her shredded fingers as impossibly sharp claws forced their way out of her nail beds. Her body was shaking horribly with the torment of her forced change.

"It's okay," Tala's soft voice made its way through Remus' cloud of rage and pain. "It's okay, I'm here with you, my love."

Remus's red eyes slowly began to lose some of their bright intensity at the gentle sound of her voice. He watched as Tala cradled his mother's head in her lap, her hands stroking Hope's head as she transformed.

"It's okay, I won't leave you," Tala soothed.

His mother whined, her body transforming against her will and against all natural process. Her whine of fear filled the air, and Remus instantly echoed it.

"_Shhhh_," Tala soothed, holding her. "The wolf is your heart. The wolf is a part of yourself. Embrace the wolf and let it heal you."

Hope Lupin whined, her jaws snapping involuntarily as her limbs thrashed and bucked.

Tala winced as Hope's fangs flashed, drawing blood.

Still, Tala did not move. She soothed the half-wolf's head as Hope transformed. "I'm here," she whispered. "_Shhhh_."

Hope whined. Remus whined. He tried to crawl over to Tala. The sound of her voice luring him out of his pain-filled haze.

Tala's blood trickled down her hand, but she didn't move, save for the petting of Hope Lupin to soothe her in her time of great need.

_**Kill!**_

_**No! Tala!**_

The werewolves spasmed as the unnatural changes hit them in a wave of overwhelming pain, sending all remnants of reason out of their heads as they howled balefully together in their shared agony.

"I'm here," Tala repeated softly. Her gentle hand touched his head— both of them crawling into her lap like overgrown hounds.

_Lick. Lick. Lick._

Remus' tongue shot out to lick her hand. Hope whined, staring up into the face of Tala Verne. The red in her eyes slowly bled into gold. Her tongue emerged to lap at Tala's wounded hand.

_Lick. Lick. Lick._

Tala soothed their heads, looking down at them with kindness. "It's okay," she repeated. "I'm with you now."

Gold swallowed the werewolves' eyes in a soft glow that grew into a shiny brilliance, seemingly in unison.

Tala's breath caught in her throat as her bright green eyes were overcome with the same golden radiance. She doubled over as the surge of magic overcame her.

_Pack._

_Safe._

Two lupine muzzles nuzzled Tala's face and neck.

_Lick. Lick. Lick._

Her arms went around both of their shaggy necks as she maintained physical contact with them, anchoring their emotions so the pain and anger dissipated into the earth and away.

_**Crack!**_

_**Crack!**_

_**Crack**_**!**

Multiple Apparations sounded in the clearing, and Lyall Lupin found himself faced with the sight of two stern and extremely angry looking Aurors flanked by two pitch black wolves, a pale-faced Minerva McGonagall, and a positively murderous -ooking Gilford Barberry.

_**Crack!**_

The largest and angriest-looking moose anyone had ever seen abruptly materialised near him, antlers lowered in threat. Beside him was a large floppy-eared hound whose black lips were pulled back from his glistening, ivory teeth in a threatening snarl.

_**Crack!**_

Orion Black stood before Lyall Lupin, his stormy grey eyes filled with the fire of righteous fury. He reached out and snapped Lyall's wand between his fingers with an ease like snapping a toothpick, and he drew back his arm and decked Lyall, sending him careening into the tree behind him with a distinct, loud crack.

Lyall twitched against the ground, unable to control his muscles. His fearful eyes stared up into the wrathful gaze of Lord Orion Black.

"You _disgust _me," Orion said in a bare whisper that fairly oozed venom. "Pray that Merlin pities you, for I will _not_."

* * *

_**Lyall Lupin Arrested For Attempted Murder **_

_**Intended to Frame His Werewolf Wife and Son**_

_If you will pardon the expression, dear readers, it seems as though the moon must indeed be full out there. Insanity, lunar-induced or otherwise, has apparently taken over the mind of Mr Lyall Lupin, who attempted to induce his wife and son to kill an innocent, Apprentice Tala Verne, using the forbidden Full Moon Curse._

_Hatred had been simmering in the heart of Lyall Lupin, from back when Lupin headed the movement to purge all werewolves from existence. That movement was formed when the notorious Fenrir Greyback was first put in front of the Wizengamot for many unspeakable crimes, including kidnap, murder and multiple charges of deliberately infecting and attempting to infect others with his werewolfism._

_The Full Moon Curse, which has been outlawed since the conclusion of the Dark Ages, was last used in Rome to amuse bloodthirsty crowds with violent battles. Known werewolves were brutally transformed into twisted parodies of themselves and were forced to fight to the death in the gladiator's arena as a sickening form of public entertainment. While the spell had fallen out of favour due to the development of certain other spells, the curse was formally and officially banned when werewolves were reclassified as human victims of a curse and granted the same rights and privileges as every other citizen of Wizarding Britain._

_Use of the Full Moon Curse carries a minimum penalty of 20 years in Azkaban, with additional years that may be added on for any damage that may have caused to injured parties. As Lyall Lupin used it on a full-fledged Auror Animagus, who also happened to be his own son, the penalties levied against him look to be very hefty indeed._

_Top on the list of crimes was the use of the Full Moon Curse to cause the murder of Apprentice Tala Verne, who was wounded during the resulting altercation._

"_I do not blame anyone for my injury," Miss Verne asserted to us in an interview. "The transformation was unnatural and exceedingly painful. Their bodies were being tortured. I cannot and will not blame an innocent victim for lashing out in agony."_

_Such forgiving words in the face of her almost-violent attack, is it easy to see why Apprentice Verne spearheads the movement for rehabilitating the victims of Fenrir Greyback. With a heart as compassionate as that, perhaps it is easier to see how when Aurors arrived to intervene, the task that remained to be performed was the arrest of Lyall Lupin. The forcibly transformed wolves were found lying quietly in Miss Verne's lap, unwilling to leave her side._

_Lyall Lupin is currently housed in Azkaban awaiting his full trial and hearing in front of the Wizengamot. He is reportedly sharing a cell, rather ironically, near the likes of Dolores Umbridge and Fenrir Greyback._

* * *

Lyall grunted.

He had fallen asleep against the bars talking to the very interesting Dolores Umbridge. The woman was of much the same mind as him. She was so perfectly aligned to how he thought of beasts that they had talked for many hours, well into the night, their backs against the bars as they shared their woes and and reserves of venom with each other.

He couldn't remember all of the details about what had happened to Umbridge, but he was certain the woman had been framed. She was obviously intelligent enough to know that beasts were the enemies of all good folk and needed to be purged from Wizarding society. Why couldn't he have found someone like her instead of Hope, that stupid, traitorous, she-wolf wife of his?

His head tingled disturbingly, but he ignored it. His fight with another prisoner had landed him in this particular cell. No other cell was available, at least not one containing someone he hadn't recently gotten into a fight with. His body was already covered in multiple scratches and unhealed wounds resulting from him throwing himself at and anyone and anything he could to make himself feel even a little bit better.

_Tingle. Tingle. Itch_.

_Tingle. Itch. ITCH._

Lyall scratched his head and grimaced. He had some kind of disgusting slime in his hair? What in Merlin's name—?

Thick, semi-transparent goo dripped off his fingers. A mysterious, pale, greenish iridescence shimmered off it with an odd sort of inherent magic. What the—?

_Tingle. Tingle._

Gods, it actually felt... good. Almost… soothing.

He felt a sudden, spreading warmth easing its way across his body, seeping into all of his wounds, bruises and scratches like a warm, healing liniment.

His breathing was coming faster and faster, causing a soft, pleasure-filled moan to escape his throat.

_Lick. Lick. Lick._

His eyelids fluttered, his hands were trembling in a strange form of cathartic pleasure.

His arms extended from him as he rolled against the bottom of his cell.

_Lick. Lick. Lick._

The warmth felt good. So very, very… _good_. His hands trembled, then clenched and relaxed. His jaw worked as a fine strand of green-tinted drool began to escape the corner of his mouth.

He felt a pleasurable warmth spreading throughout his body. _Yes. Oh, my Merlin, yes._

_More_.

He smelled strawberries. His eyes fluttered with something like ecstasy. His nostrils flared slightly. _Sweet summer strawberries and just a hint of…_

_Wet dog?_

_Lick. Lick. Lick._

His hands stroked something soft and velvety. It felt so _good_. So _natural_. He wanted to _bask _in it. _Roll _in it.

His eyes rolled back in his head. It didn't matter. All that mattered was this feeling. This glorious completeness, forever and ever. All he had to do was just _let it in _and they would be as one… forever.

He wanted it.

He needed it.

He _craved _it.

His jaw worked. He was licking his lips, a soft whine forming in this throat.

_Don't stop. Don't stop. Please, don't stop. So very wonderful. This feeling of— _

He didn't even notice as his body was practically shoving itself up against the bars, his head pressed between the magic-suppressing iron bars as his face nuzzled into the soft, velvet bliss of warmth, home, and a glorious, unconditional acceptance.

His back was arching, his spine bowing as the rough fabric of his prison uniform began to rip apart.

_Ahh! So... confining. _

He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his arse and he whined, squirming. The soothing licking continued, and he felt so much better. He somehow knew that if he just surrendered to these new, pleasurable waves of feeling, the pain would simply disappear, as if it was never really there to begin with.

His limbs were shaking, spasming, but he barely noticed the burning, itching, pain. The smell of ripe strawberries was overwhelming. His tongue shot out of his mouth, lolling unnaturally, elongating. Small, dainty canines were inexorably pushing out of his tender gums and his face seemed to be slowly crawling outwards, centimeter by centimeter. His nostrils flared as he savoured the mouthwatering scent of fresh strawberries in the sun.

As the feeling of acceptance came over him, he felt himself give in completely. _Yes. Yes! Oh, Merlin. Yes. Take me, I'm all yours. Just don't stop. Don't ever stop._

The colour of his eyes began to change, shifting into a bright, glowing, pink.

He could smell her now. His glorious bitch. Waiting for him, enticingly calling out to him. All he had to do was simply embrace the transformation and get through these stupid, confining metal bars!

Somewhere, deep inside, the mind of Lyall Lupin began to scream as if suddenly realising what was going on, what was currently happening to him. The human Lyall was clawing futilely from the inside of his broken psyche, trying desperately to hold onto the tattered shreds of his humanity.

But the venom of one Dolores Umbridge had found her true mate at last, her one true love— someone just as horrible and hateful, spiteful and twisted as she was. The _one _person she could gift with her unique taint and have it fully, nay, enthusiastically accepted… body and soul. When all other methods of reproduction had unfortunately failed her, this one arrived to make her life complete: the willing acceptance of her one and only: her perfect mate.

Lyall Lupin had become a were-poodle, by his own will, christened by his own hate and bigotry. He had found his soulmate in Azkaban— the one person just as prejudiced and horrible as he was.

Lyall Lupin's panicked despair gave power to the beast to make the full shift, and in an explosion of rapid convulsions, the newest pink were-poodle stood proudly in his place. His lips pulled back from his small, canine fangs as he thrust his muzzle through the bars to nuzzle his beloved mate. Umbridge whined and licked his muzzle in return, joyfully welcoming him to her world.

Lyall, or what remained of him, wagged his tail, sending the last tattered remnant of Lyall Lupin's human mind careening into Oblivion, screaming all the way.

* * *

_**Were-Poodles: They DO Exist!**_

_Azkaban seems to have a bit of a problem. A very… pink problem._

_Only a month following the incarceration of Mr Lyall Lupin, he was transferred into the cell directly next to Dolores Umbridge, due to Lupin's tendency to inflict physical harm on anyone unfortunate enough to be placed near him._

_The transfer of Lupin to the new location, however, seemed to work out surprisingly well. Fewer fights, and both less frequent and less violent outbreaks by Lupin seemed to indicate a much more satisfactory situation._

_Everything was thought to be working out quite well until yesterday morning, when the wardens of Azkaban discovered two pink were-poodles where there should have been only one._

_Somehow, despite all of her previous bites proving to be non-infective, Dolores Umbridge managed to infect Lyall Lupin with her very special and completely baffling brand of poodle-anthropy._

_The were-poodle is an exceedingly strange beast, according to Healers and magi-zoologists working with Miss Umbridge, research that began within days of Umbridge's incarceration. This particular change appears to be fueled by emotion. Her changes, while also controlled by the moon, seem to be triggered by powerful emotion, particularly negative emotion of any kind. While Umbridge had been on a sedative of sorts to help keep her slightly more stable, she is not completely emotionless, and sometimes changes just happen regardless of hour or day. _

_It seems, however, that whatever singular emotional cocktail had created Dolores the were-poodle found a kindred spirit in Lyall Lupin and worked accordingly to bring him fully into her cursed world._

_The two poodles haven't shifted back into human form once since they were first found together. _

"_They remain closely snuggled up to each other against the bars and show major aggression when we attempt to separate them. We don't dare to put them together, as we have no idea what might happen," one of the supervisors said with a shudder. "We keep them together yet still separate because at least when they are together like that, they aren't barking, snarling and howling at us all day, I'm sorry to say."_

_Lyall Lupin's sentence has been carried out without him having to show up for the trial, thanks to his current, apparently irreversible condition. He, like Umbridge, will never leave Azkaban due to their highly unstable and dangerous form of poodle-anthropy._

"_Both of them are more or less serving life-sentences," Warden Stoneheim said. "At least we can feel safe knowing that they won't be out there in the world, terrorising the masses."_

_After Umbridge murdered countless innocent children during one of her infamous transformations, I think we can all breathe a sigh of great relief._

_Ironically, the werewolves that both Dolores Umbridge and Lyall Lupin loved to hate so much are outside of Azkaban, happily living productive lives, enjoying their freedom and a peaceful existence . The same, however, cannot be said for the unfortunate Dolores Umbridge and Lyall Lupin._

* * *

**A/N:** Karma is a bitch… *cough* And uh.. so is Umbridge.


	44. May 1978 Slipstreams and Mad Dreams

**A/N: **On a positive note, I have had a few compliments on Violet's character. This chapter is for you guys, and I thank you for redeeming the entire guest review thing.

Um.. also minor lemon alert later in the chapter. They're married after all.

**Beta Love: **The Dragon and the Rose (praise her)

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Slipstreams and Mad Dreams**

"_You're a dark wizard, Mulder." - Scully_

"Violet?" Stephan said as Violet stared out over the ocean. Her eyes were closed, but there was a smile on her lips. Viktor warbled happily on her shoulder.

"Stephan," she answered with warmth. "You found me."

"Lord and Lady Snape sent their sincere thanks for your work on their new home," Stephan said as he sat beside her. "They sent an invitation to their housewarming party."

"That's so very sweet of them," Violet said, turning to face him. She stared towards him, her blind eyes staring into into him as her smile spread across her face. "I cannot even begin to tell you much joy they have gifted me in allowing Viktor to find us."

The Arctocyon Animagus ran his hand down Viktor's feathered back and the phoenix warbled happily, rubbing against his hand.

"There is a storm coming," Violet said after a while. "I can smell it on the air and water, but it feels so beautiful today. The sun, the warmth, yet a refreshing touch of coolness in the breeze."

"You feel the world around you in a way most can never see," Stephan admitted.

Violet placed her hands against his face, seemingly finding it with skill born of habit and practice. Her fingers traced the lines of his face and his smile. "You are so kind to me, Stephan. You always have been."

"Some would say an Arctocyon was never the most compassionate of creatures to ever roam the earth," he mused aloud.

Violet smiled at him. "You have always been _so _compassionate with me," she replied. "That is all that matters, Stephan. Who is to say they were not? We were not there, we could not possibly know. All we have are tracks and bones, but you and I both know that tracks can prove misleading, and bones are often a hint of unfortunate circumstances. I happen to think you are quite perfect."

Viktor tugged gently on her hair.

"And apparently Viktor does too," she added with a smile.

Stephan chuckled warmly.

Violet cradled the young phoenix in her arms, pressing her cheek to his warm body as he chirped softly. "I made something for you," Violet told him, smiling.

Stephan turned his head, curious. "Oh? A den for my nights when I just want to crawl into a dark hole after work and sleep?"

Violet smiled. "I already made you one of those."

Beardog chuckled. "Is it so bad that I could hope for two?"

"Just walk a kilometer down the way there, at least," Violet boggled for a moment. "It _felt _like a kilometer."

"We've shared this barren little coastal plot long enough to know there is nothing there but rocks, gulls, and seagrass," Stephan chuckled. "Did you make me a sea shanty? Woven of grasses and reeds?"

Violet turned her chin up at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

* * *

Stephan Beardog had a problem.

His legs couldn't move… wouldn't move. His eyes focused on the most glorious hardwood tree he had ever seen, with large gnarled roots extending across the rich, black earth. The sand had made way for the actual soil. The roots had formed stairs leading up the base of the tree, and the tree, oh, Merlin, the tree!

He had to crane his neck to look up to see it all, and even when he did, he only saw the bottom of the canopy. He could hear the trickle of fresh water running under the roots, feeding the tree from underground springs. If the canopy was any indicator, the roots that burrowed deep into the earth were very, very deep indeed.

The stairs merged into the trunk of the tree, spiraling upward into the canopy. It was a very long staircase. He was going to need some help from his Arctocyon form to even hope to get up them, and he didn't want to miss anything along the way. This was Violet's work… if he cheated in the ascent, she would be disappointed, and he could not bear the thought of her frown. They had worked together for upwards of fifteen years, not including the time they had spent training to work together. He could feel her frown even when he wasn't looking. They had become attuned to each other.

The arrival of Viktor had only enhanced the sensitivity of the bond between them. The dutiful phoenix had opened a sort of conduit between them that enhanced their already strong rapport. He'd come to the realisation that he couldn't imagine a world where he wasn't working with Violet every day, feeling the gentle touch of her of fingers in his fur as he guided her from place to place and protected her from the ironic blindness of others to her condition.

She never seemed to notice, or rather she never seemed to let it concern her, that others seemed utterly oblivious to her condition. She found it amusing that people were more apt to boggle over Beardog than her. To her, Beardog was her partner and her friend, and while she knew he wasn't the typical animal to be found anywhere in the world, she never saw him as the type to attract undue attention. Stephan found that ironic, considering that most people tended to both stare and rapidly shuffle out of the way due to his rather intimidating, snarling demeanour.

When they were around Muggles, his "collar" would automatically disguise him, charming him with a powerful glamour that allowed him to appear as her service animal. His intimidating demeanour hadn't changed, however, as he was a very large Tibetan mastiff even under the glamour. The only difference was, small children seemed to think he was extremely huggable, and he'd often end up with a small gaggle of giggly children trying to snuggle and pet him.

Oddly enough, Violet would wait patiently until the children were pried off of him. The parents would usually apologise profusely for interrupting Violet's day, but later, she would comment that she loved the sound of happy children. One day, she said, she hoped to be so lucky, if fate was kind enough allow her the opportunity to have a family. Being a full-time Auror with a very strong talent for Arbourmancy kept her very busy. She had very little time to socialise outside of her Auror colleagues, and most evenings were spent discussing various distressing situations that took place during their work day with Stephan, sharing her thoughts on the day's events in order to calm herself down enough to sleep.

They had shared a small house together along the coast because it put her far enough away from the distracting sounds of city life as well as giving her a place to know intimately without encountering unexpected changes in her environment due to unexpected visitors showing up and randomly moving things around. They each had their separate rooms, but he was always alert to her needs if she needed him. Having the house, however, had given her a new kind of independence that she liked. She knew where the kettle and teacups were, the steps, as well as the soap and shampoo. She could run her hands across the walls and know _exactly _where she was. She rarely called upon him, preferring to do most things herself, but when she did, he never complained, and he made sure she knew he was glad to do it.

He took off in his Arctocyon form, trotting up the stairs with a bound in his steps. The steps were all living wood, but like most of Violet's work, her mind's eye saw everything so very clearly. The railings were smooth to the touch, but the bark was fully intact. The branches bent down to fill in the railings. The steps themselves were padded with a thick layer of moss, kept moist by the moisture-laden ambient sea air. It squished pleasantly as he bounded up the steps. Every so often there would be a viewing platform, much like a deck, with a bench to look out over the surrounding land and sea. It was eerie how she knew exactly where to place them and had the kindness and consideration to create something that _he _could visually enjoy.

His steps gradually took him towards the top of the canopy, and there, his eyes went wide. A lighthouse seemed to spring forth from the base of the beautiful wooden house. Golden light flickered from within, reflected by the larger windows, which were made of magically-enhanced sea glass. A deck expanded from every side with sturdy railings to prevent accidental shifts in the tree due to stronger winds. Amazingly enough, he knew the tree _was _actually moving in the wind, yet he could not feel it at all. It was as though it were perfectly attuned— the tree and the house— to be in a mutually beneficial symbiotic relationship.

A brilliant glow came from the lighthouse top, shining its radiance to the rocky shoreline below. Sharp jagged rocks and boulders lurked just below the ocean's surface, that he knew well from experience. He had often commented that Muggle boats had not infrequently crashed there, and due to the property being unplottable and warded against Muggles, help would never come from Muggles to a place that, after all, "didn't properly exist." Beardog would end up calling in teams to rescue them, and then the Obliviators would arrive shortly after as the team carefully moved the wreckage to a different area to be "discovered". The rescued Muggles would eventually wake up around a warm fire on the beach, strangely dry and well taken care of, with the broken remains of their poor ship right there on the rocky shoreline.

He could sense the magic in the beacon. Intricate spellwork was woven into the beacon to both warn passing ships away from the rocks but there was also a subtle, yet powerful, Muggle-repelling charm that kept the curious from wishing to explore the area a bit more closely. It would be a shore like any other— only one far too perilous to explore. It was a stunning example of subtle and beautiful spellwork and a true testament to Violet's meticulous planning and forethought.

"I made something for you," Violet had said.

For _him_.

This place… was for _him_?

He touched the nearby door and it swung open before his hand could even touch the door handle. He walked in tentatively, far too used to entering strange homes that were filled with nasty magical booby-traps and harbouring Dark wizards rather than peaceful, safe havens.

The moment he walked in, the light level in the house shifted into a pleasant ambient glow. It was not so bright that he was forced to squint in order to adjust, but it was warm and simply… perfect. A kitchen lay to the side, with an open window looking out over the ocean, and a slight, marine breeze was flowing through, gently rustling the curtains. The floor was perfectly smooth to the touch, yet he could see the wood was still very much alive. The tree itself _was _the house. As he took off his shoes at the front door, placing them in a little nook that had seemingly been crafted into the walls, he realised that his feet were pleasantly warm. There was a warming charm at work to keep the floors heated to a comfortable level.

As he walked through the "living room" he realised it was clearly, well... living up to the name. The "walls" were alive with highly polished sea glass containing and displaying a thriving aquatic ecosystem. Fresh water was magicked up from the ocean in a constant aerated cycle to feed the walls. Seaweed and corals thrived between the panes, and rich, volcanic sand lined the bottom. Schools of brightly-coloured fish darted this way and that around the thriving marine plants, kept company by seahorses, starfish, urchins and anemones. Small stingrays patrolled the waters, and small sharks wove their way around natural, miniature reefs. Tiny, baby sea turtles hid in the kelp forests. It wasn't just an aquarium. It was a true ecosystem sustaining itself. He was surrounded in the sea in a giant lighthouse set in an even larger tree.

How long had she been working on this place?

How long had she maintained the spell that made it look like nothing was there?

Merlin… she must have started this project _years_ ago.

Sure, she had built the house for the new Lord and Lady Snape in a relatively short period of time, but she had been filtered a constant stream of energy from others with which to do so. There had been a team of people assisting her. This project… this was all _her_.

He followed the hall down to the rooms beyond and found a glorious master bath with a connecting sauna and wash room. There was a heated area where you could wash, and beyond it was the formal bath… a heated hot spring to soak achy muscles in once the normal bathing was done. There were tapered steps made just large enough to be comfortable for one giant prehistoric bear-dog to lounge to his heart's content.

He found the bedroom shortly after, and it contained a large, hanging, circular bed that reminded him of the old hammocks he used to have in his parents' back garden. He and his brother and sister would fight over it because it was _so _comfortable. A touch of the bed itself confirmed it was so much more than comfortable. It was like a cloud given tangible form.

He approached the double doors nearby and walked out into a separate balcony and gasped as he saw the view over the cliffs. Refreshing ocean breezes ruffled his hair as he stood gazing out at the sea, absolutely dumbfounded. He stared up at the towering lighthouse.

There had been no door leading to it. He had seen no stairs either. How was he supposed to get up there?

A soft, melodious warble caught his attention.

Viktor sang a merry tune, filling his heart with a boundless joy, and then, clear as a bright summer day, he saw the picture in his mind.

"You want to… carry me?" he asked the phoenix.

Viktor grabbed his nearby sleeve and tugged insistently. He stared up at Stephan and chirped in the affirmative.

Flying had never been his thing. He was pretty sure if he had been meant to fly, he would not have become an Arctocyon Animagus. There was also that embarrassing history of him being wildly bucked off of training brooms from a very early age, and Floo travel always made him want to throw up. Apparition was an unfortunately necessary evil, but it had taken him many long months of practice with Violet for him to learn how _not _to lose his lunch immediately after arriving. After having deposited his half-digested meal on the Minister for Magic's shoes on one very memorable assignment, he made sure to always carry a bottle of anti-emetics from the apothecary specifically designed for those who experienced severe nausea following an Apparation. He preferred that most people remained unaware of that particularly embarrassing failing of his. A giant prehistoric beast laid low by an everyday form of transportation— no thanks. His Auror friends never ridiculed him. All of them knew his problem, and all of them had issues of their own somewhere. He just preferred _not _to acquire "that Auror who spews all over your shoes" as his moniker for life. It was bad enough that on the very first day he had met Violet, before they had even been made partners, he had hurled violently at her feet right after being Flooed in for that day's training. She had never held it against him, which had frankly amazed him.

Viktor pecked his hand.

_Hey. Pay attention._

Stephan blinked. It wasn't words, exactly. He just had a feeling— a strong one— what the phoenix was trying to say to him.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said to the phoenix, swallowing hard.

Viktor landed on him, placing his talons into his robes around his head, and with a series of flaps, carried him easily as though he weighed nothing.

The top of the lighthouse came up fast, and Stephan waited for that feeling of utter nausea that usually came with fast movement upward. Oddly, it never came, and Viktor placed him gently down on the balcony just under the lighthouse' beacon.

The phoenix warbled and flew up and into the beacon's area. Beardog followed, curious, climbing up the smaller stairs to get there. As he reached the beacon, he saw a number of perches set up for Viktor so he could sit and gaze in whichever direction he desired. It was what was on bottom of the beacon itself that was the most interesting. Viktor had crafted a nest out of driftwood, moss, lichen, down, wool, and what very well could be Acromantula silk. He wasn't sure where he had gotten the silk, as Acromantulas were not exactly native to Britain, but it looked like the phoenix had made a himself very nice platform for his nest and a comfortable sitting bowl. Even more fascinating was that a small golden ball about the size of a snitch lay in the bowl, surrounded in fluffy down. Magic thrummed off of it like a heartbeat.

A phoenix egg. Somehow, he just _knew_.

Viktor warbled happily, but did not seem so inclined to sit on the nest. For now, at least, he was content to collect, and maybe, one day, he would find a proper she-phoenix who appreciated his choice of home and perhaps even appreciated his choice in humans. Apparently the phoenix seemed to think that he'd be visiting this place often, even though Violet's home was a fair distance down the beach.

Stephan walked around the beacon and onto the the outside balcony, taking time to stare out over the darkening skies and crashing ocean surf.

"Do you like it?" Violet's soft voice startled him.

He turned to see her looking right at him. Her blind eyes stared through him.

"It's _gorgeous_, Violet," he said softly. "You have such a gift. It never fails to amaze me."

Violet smiled. She reached out and he leaned down so she could feel his face. Her fingers spread across his face, feeling for his expression. "I'm glad you like it," she confessed, her hands gently alighting on his smile.

"Violet, are you trying to kick me out of your house?" he asked gently.

Violet shook her head. "I know sometimes you wake when you even think I might need you. I thought, perhaps, you might desire a place to get away from it all. Someplace to call your own. Host grand parties and not have to worry about me."

"Violet," Stephan touched her cheek. "I do not wish to be parted from you. If I thought, even for a moment, that you would accept me, I would court you this instant."

Violet's face wrinkled in confusion. "Why would you think that I would reject such an offer?"

Stephan flushed in shame, turning away from her seeking hands as she tried to discern his expression.

"Stephan," Violet said painfully, her hands seeking him as her mind brushed against his for the familiar rapport they had shared for so long. "Please, talk to me."

Stephan grasped her hands, pressing his lips to her fingertips.

"It's okay, Violet," Stephan said sadly. "I know you and Auror Winfrey went to pick out rings before you accepted his courtship. Jeffries told me. I'm happy for you. I just—"

Violet placed her hands on his cheeks. " Jeffries is an idiot," she hissed. "Yes, I went with Winfrey to pick out rings, but the rings weren't for _us_, Stephan. They were for Auror Tenneson. He's proposing to Rose this weekend and wanted me to help him choose a ring with the right feel to it, since I knew her energy."

Stephan blinked, stammering. "I—"

Violet pulled his head down with her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead. "I would court you, Stephan Beardog, if you would have me, you horribly presumptive man."

Her lips slid down to his right cheek. "You have been my friend for over fifteen years."

She pressed her lips to his left cheek. "You have been my partner and my equal in all things just as long."

She pulled a ring formed out of smooth driftwood that swirled both red and gold in the setting sun. Set in the wood was a perfectly clear amber stone carved to show a sleeping Arctocyon. "Would you have me?"

Stephan cupped Violet's face in his hands. "Yes," he breathed. He caught her mouth with his and sealed the bond with a passionate kiss that left them both a little more than breathless.

Viktor sang a chain of joyous notes and stared at them both.

_Finally._

Violet and Stephan turned to where the phoenix had announced his presence and stared.

Viktor stared back at them innocently and hopped into Violet's open arms.

Violet pulled the bird against her chest and snuggled him, causing the phoenix to let out a soft crooning warble.

"Thank you," she whispered into his soft feathers.

Minutes later, Viktor sat on the balcony railing outside the master bedroom and singing a merry song to himself, his feathers glowing radiantly to match the lighthouse beacon.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore gazed into the glass of the Mirror of Erised, his aged fingers running across the ornately carved frame of the mirror as he read the inscription.

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

He stared into the looking glass that was so much more than simple reflective glass. It was a window that, rather than reflecting the gazer's own image, it presented instead the fondest dreams and deepest desires of those who gazed into its mysterious, enchanted depths.

He knew this was the case, yet he looked anyway. He _longed _for what he saw there. Every time he looked into it, he felt as though he was closer to his goals, yet, at the same time, he felt more empty and more despairing, wanting to throw himself bodily into the mirror's version of reality.

The mirror showed him perfection. He stood tall and proud as the Master of Death. His brother, Aberforth looked up at him with respect. His parents were still alive, nodding their approval, having recognised all that he had done to make their lives better. His sister, oh his Ariana, was alive and magically powerful, having never been attacked and beaten by angry, jealous Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy was no more. He stood proudly as the benevolent and beloved leader who had guided both the magical and Muggle worlds towards peace.

This was what was meant to be. Albus _knew _it.

He could see his new world so very clearly. Crowds would gather wherever he walked, reaching out their hands for a touch, a smile, or a blessing for their children. Grindelwald stood proudly beside him, having seen that Albus' plan was more beneficial to the greater good.

It was _all _for the greater good.

There would be peace. His sister would be alive and happy. His father would never have been sentenced to Azkaban. His mother would not have died due to Ariana's blast of unintentional, uncontrolled magic. He would never have had to part ways with Grindelwald. All of these necessary evils he had been forced to commit would be erased and forgotten.

All he needed, was a little help and just the right timing. Fortunately, the timing itself would be the help.

He pulled out the time-turner from his silver-blue robes, stroking the pulsing golden orb that powered it with his fingers. That meddling Argus had somehow stumbled onto his hoarded nest of phoenix eggs and allowed Fawkes to whisk them away. The eggs had been hatched. He saw the evidence perching on the shoulders of many Hogwarts staff members and even keeping companionship with Aurors. Hatched phoenixes were incompatible with the time-turners. They were able to make up their own minds and control the ebb and flow of the time currents they tapped into. The unborn, however, could he harnessed and directed. That made the eggs so much more valuable.

Fortunately, Albus had squirreled away a handful of eggs apart from the main nest. Each one was meticulously attached to a very special device of his own making. All that he needed was the perfect time to travel to in order to snatch up the Hallows before they disappeared again into the obscurity of time. Thanks to the eggs, he would be able to snatch them up and return safely — something the unfortunate Mintumble had been unable to do.

He suspected that the meddling young apprentices dear Minerva had taken on were behind the unfortunate chain of events that had made it virtually impossible to convince the Potters to move their hidden cloak. He had tried using Peter to gain James' trust, but that had ended rather badly. He had tried to mold Argus Filch into a tool to relentlessly pursue curfew-breaking students through the halls and perhaps pressure James to reveal his own use of the family cloak, but Argus had made _friends_ among the students, including one James Potter, and those friends had made him happy. A happy Filch was utterly useless to Albus. There was no leverage he could use to ensure loyalty to himself as the squib caretaker's only friend.

Undaunted, he had instead taken Lily Evans under wing— the innocent and easily manipulated Muggle-born witch. She knew _nothing _of Wizarding society and culture. She had no idea the depth of power that magic had among those attuned to its gifts. She thought it merely a tool to be used, like the Muggles who discovered how to tame electricity and fire. Her insecurities gave him the access he needed to shape and shade her perceptions perfectly. It had also allowed him to plant that little _push _in her mind to kiss her childhood friend a just the right moment to unleash chaos and create a diversion that would hopefully allow him to get rid of the meddlesome apprentices that kept trying to save the world.

Only _he_ knew how to save the world properly. Only _he_ could bring peace to both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, and he _would _do it… without them, without Slytherin… without the House that had denied him his proper due. He was to be anointed as the second coming of Merlin, but no… the hopeful young Albus had instead been sorted into Gryffindor.

Now, every time he saw a Slytherin, he saw all the things he had been cruelly denied. As it turned out, he rather enjoyed being a Gryffindor. They were so very _easy _to manipulate. They could be subtly nudged to charge in where fools feared to tread and so easily. They didn't question things like Slytherin did, pondering their own sense of self-preservation before doing tasks. They made friends very eagerly. They protected them fiercely. They were the _perfect _tools for his new world order. He didn't really need to be a Slytherin to achieve greatness. Instead, he pushed Gryffindor towards Slytherin in a wonderful rivalry that kept them nicely distracted from paying the least bit of attention to what their kindly, benevolent Headmaster was up to. It was just the way he wanted it. Then, when he obviously protected and blatantly favoured his once-House, it only fueled the fire of jealousy and simmering anger between the two rival houses.

Then Hermione Black had come and had been sorted into Slytherin like the rest of her family. She and her friend, the boy Severus Snape, had become fast friends, and somehow… somehow, they had discovered the secret of Lyall Lupin's werewolf son. Somehow, they had managed to befriend him so early that when Albus came to him in hopes of finding a lonely, tortured boy desperately in need of fatherly kindness, he had instead found a happy young wizard with two steadfast and loyal friends. While the boy appreciated the agreement Albus had made with his father to provide a safe place for the fledgling wizard to transform, he was actually looking very healthy and confident rather than withdrawn and tortured. Albus' plans to use the boy as a carefully molded tool to assist him in brokering the aid of the werewolves to his cause had been foiled before it even began. Even more frustrating, the trio had made quite a name for themselves doing the one thing that guaranteed the loyalty and help of the majority of the werewolf population: the creation of the life-changing Wolfsbane Potion.

He was so very tired of having his plans continually foiled by bumbling innocence, so he had planted the compulsion to kiss Severus into Lily's mind after arranging the approval of the construction plans for her business. She had kissed Apprentice Snape in front of the entire Great Hall and sent a heartbroken Hermione Black fleeing from the site of her once steadfast companion.

Privately, Albus greatly enjoyed watching the drama unfold, happy that they finally got a taste of what it was like to have something they dearly wanted snatched out of their hands. He had figured the drama would last like most such romantic quarrels did at Hogwarts— a few months to a year— before slowly fading and being forgotten. It would have given him sufficient time to find the location of and hopefully acquire the cloak and the stone.

But somehow, someone had gotten their hooks into Lily Evans and had her quickly reverse her faux pax. Then, but a day later, he found out that Apprentices Snape and Black had successfully founded their own magical had the most coveted of all magical bonds recognised by the Wizarding world. Now people crowded around _them_ instead of Albus. They extended their hands to these two students like they were somehow new incarnations of Merlin himself. They wanted _them_ to bless their babies and their homes, not Albus. They were stealing what rightfully belonged to _him_.

_Damn _all Slytherin!

They had even charmed his faithful Minerva, she who had always given him her full trust and approbation.

_Damn _those that didn't understand what he was trying to do for the greater good.

Soon everything would be better.

He stroked the egg he had securely attached to his device.

He would become the Master of Death. It was his destiny.

The mirror knew it. The mirror had showed it to him!

Albus stared into the Mirror of Erised with a deep, fervent longing. The future would be placed into his expert hands. He would move heaven and earth to make certain of that. The future would be _his_.

However, there was a rather important something that he had to take care of first.

He smiled, turned the hourglass with his fingers and vanished.

* * *

Severus woke drowsily in the early morning to the feel of Fawkes nestled snugly between himself and Hermione. The phoenix provided his soothing warmth to the bed, and Hermione's arms were wrapped around the feathered ball with loving tenderness.

Some nights Fawkes slept with Remus and some nights with Severus and Hermione, but with Jean having happily taken up residence in Remus' sock collection, it seemed as though Fawkes preferred not to fight his wayward sock-hoarding daughter over sleeping territory. The only one who seemed to be able to get every phoenix to cuddle with him simultaneously without any bickering was Orion Black.

He lowered his head to gently place a kiss upon his wife's forehead, a quirk of a smile on his lips. Hermione snuggled closer to him, melding her body with his under the duvet. Severus' eyes fluttered in pure pleasure. If someone could have told him, back when he had to watch his father beating his mother on a near-daily basis, that something so extraordinary, something like _this _was even possible, he wasn't sure he would have believed it. It seemed so very surreal, even now— to have her love, her trust, and her warmth for a lifetime. His. She was his witch, and he was never going to let her go.

Severus pulled her to him, slightly squishing the sleepy Fawkes between them as he held his wife close to him. Fawkes warbled groggily and moved to the head of the bed and began his thorough daily preening regimen. He stroked her hair, pressing his face into it, burying his nose into it until it touched her scalp.

_Please _don't let me become my father.

Please, I _beg _you.

If Magic truly wishes us to be together— please don't let me become the heartless beast that my father was to my mother.

Hermione's arms went around his neck and pulled him down over her, her warm mouth seeking his for a morning kiss.

The moment her lips touched his, he came undone, a low, rumbling growl of possessive need filling him. The time sands were gathering on them again, attracted to them when their emotions drew them inexorably to each other. The grains of sand fell around them like snow in winter, settling on their skin as he pleasured his mate. His lips worked down her neck as her eyes widened.

"Severus," she whispered his name, breathy and needful. She had never once called him by a nickname short of the one name that wasn't truly a nickname: Onyx. In many ways he was more Onyx now than he had ever been before. His phoenix self. When Hermione said either of his names, it was though she was singing it. She had never once treated him with disrespect, even when they played, teased, or ended up in a prank war with Remus. It was as though every syllable of his name was a prayer, and he was drawn to it as a moth to the flame.

"Sevvvv—" Hermione gasped, "erus—"

Well, except when he did that to her. That was his own fault. Gladly. Happily. Oh, yes.

He descended upon her, his mouth seeking the inviting pink peak atop the flushed, rosy skin of her breast. Hermione arched against him with a gasp, practically levitating off the bed. She panted, her eyes wide as she stared into his eyes.

That look.

Ohhh, that _look_.

He could die happy knowing that look was for him alone, and it was. _It was_!

He used his tongue to slide across her skin, causing trembles of pleasure to ripple down her body. Her arms went around his waist and her fingers clutched at the smooth skin of his back. He hissed softly, his mind growing fuzzy with lust. His breathing came in rapid pants as his body let him know that he was ready for more.

My Lady. My wife. How very beautiful you are.

He gazed into her beloved face as he merged with her, watching her eyes go wide and her pupils seeming to swallow her irises whole. Her delicate tongue slid out of her mouth, sliding across her bottom lip like a lure.

He swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker, covering her mouth with a low, needful moan. The time sands were covering them, sparkling brightly as he thrust, and she gasped into his mouth with small, exquisite whimpers that made every coherent thought he might have had flee.

"Hermione," he whispered into her mouth, panting, his hand touching her abdomen as he concentrated enough to solidify the proper spell.

One day, he wouldn't have to worry about such things. One day, the world would be right for children— their children— the like of those the world had never seen outside the ancient and noble house of Black. He wasn't sure if anyone could one-up a certain branch of the Black family, but there was no harm in trying.

Hermione groaned against his skin, her mouth latching onto the soft flesh of his neck. She worried it slightly as she rubbed up against him. It was just enough to feel the friction of her teeth against his skin that sent a thrilling shiver down his spine. The feel of her, melded into him made it hard to discern where he ended and she began. As he inched ever closer to that bright place where time stilled, he watched her face as he felt her body reach that same secret place with him.

Black wings unfolded from his back as time dust flew in all directions. It flowed into them and out of them. They breathed it in as tears flowed down their cheeks, saturated with the sparkling granules of time. Fire spread across their bodies in verdant trails of emerald green, winding around them like the coils of a serpent. Severus smiled as Hermione groaned into his ear as her wings unfolded from her back. She wrapped them around his body as he wrapped them around hers. Her whimpers were transforming into warbles, and the moment he heard them he was filled with rapture. He thrust into her with abandon, his voice crying out in a song of pure joy, the notes hanging in the air, suspended like the rays of the sun in the sky.

They collapsed together, wings locked around each other, refusing to allow the other to disengage. Hermione tucked herself under his chin, her arms locked around his body just like her wings. Severus' eyes rolled back in his head, his eyelids fluttering as the heaviness of glorious completion dragged him back into a contented sleep.

Minutes later, Fawkes carefully talon-walked across their resting bodies and flopped down between them, snuggling against them both with a contented warble. Sagacity landed next to their heads and snuggled into their merged hair with a soft hoot of avian approval.

* * *

_Tom smiled into the dusky haze of early morning. The soft ocean breezes rustled the curtains, bringing the light scent of salt and water into the cottage. An arm curled around his waist, pulling him closer, and he purred softly, burying his face into a mass of silky, golden hair._

"_Good morning, my love," he whispered into her tresses._

"_Mmmm, can we stay here forever, Tom?" _

"_In bed? Not that I would ever complain," he replied, smirking playfully at her._

_She shoved him lightly, chuckling. "This place. It's simply perfect." _

"_Everything I had wanted to give you in life, my darling," Tom replied with a loving smile._

"_As long as I'm with you, it doesn't matter, my love." _

_Tom brushed her hair from her face. "I promised I'd take care of you, Ariana. I swore it." _

_She smiled at him warmly, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "I know. I've always known." She rolled out of bed, pulling a gossamer pale green chemise on to walk across the cottage floor. The cottage itself was made of smoothed, water-worn rocks and driftwood beams. The beams overhead were worn by the sea, but the wood was solid and as beautiful as it was gnarled._

_She waved her hand, summoning a bone china teacup to her hand from the small, private dining room table. She sipped from it serenely. She smiled at him and slipped out the front door. _

_Tom, feeling like he'd just been abandoned in favour of a good cup of English tea, rolled out of bed, pulling on his pants and a pair of trousers to avoid giving the ever-opportunistic sea gulls quite a show. He walked out the charming carved door._

_Ariana had crafted it herself… with magic. Her __**own **__magic. It was the final testament to their long-cherished dream. She had full control of her magic once more. She was healed._

_Tom walked out the front door with a cup of strong black coffee he had drawn off the kitchen counter. Ariana was staring out across the pounding surf, leaning against the garden fence that held everything from cabbages, peppers, and tomatoes to singing bluebells._

_A giant python was draped across the garden fence, and yawned widely, showing her enlarged backward-pointing rows of teeth._

"_Hazel," Ariana greeted, her hands soothing the smooth scales. The python rose up and curled around her like a cone, and had it been anyone else, perhaps they would have thought Ariana doomed to a swift death, but the python gave her a warm hug, her tongue flicking her ear as she hissed a friendly greeting._

"_Hazel says you'll catch a cold out here with nothing but your chemise on," Tom commented, drinking his coffee casually._

_A small, well, small compared to the python, asp bonked her head against Ariana's leg, hissing._

_Ariana crawled out from the giant python's coils, laughing. "Fern!" she cooed, scooping up the smaller snake. "Good morning, my lovely. Did you leave Sapphire alone to bask on the rocks again?" _

_Fern hissed something that sounded like laughter._

"_Silly thing," Ariana admonished, kissing the serpent on the top of her head._

_A second large python nudged Ariana with her head, tongue tickling her ear._

"_Enough, Nagini," Tom scolded gently. "Allow Ariana to enjoy her morning tea before having to placate your endless desire for cuddles." _

_The large python seemed to pout, but she nosed Ariana affectionately before slithering off deeper into the garden._

"_Aw, Tom," Ariana sighed. "You didn't have to tell her to go. She means well." _

"_She just wants you for herself," Tom said with a sniff._

"_And you know this how?" Ariana asked, curious._

"_I know the feeling," Tom answered._

"_You are both quite silly," Ariana answered. "I'm not going anywhere." _

_Tom captured her mouth with his, ending her reply. She stared back at him with sparkling brown eyes. _

"_Definitely not going anywhere," she placated. "It was a painful death, my love, but it meant that we were both freed. Look at how much we have gained now. My eldest brother can have his pitiful schemes. and manipulations. My other brother need not worry for my safety anymore. Now we have each other, forever. I could not ask for anything more than that." _

"_I wished to give you a good life," Tom said wistfully._

"_You are giving me one," Ariana replied serenely. "You never gave up on me there, either." _

"_I have felt something the last few years… days… it's so hard to tell," Tom confessed. "I feel like parts of me have come home at long last. Lost pieces of my soul." _

"_Perhaps someone has found a way to return them to you, my love," Ariana said. "They have always belonged to you." _

"_Something remains of me there, I can still feel that," Tom admitted._

_Ariana pressed her fingers to his lips. "Shades, lover. Shades of pain and sorrow." _

"_Hatred," Tom said. "Rage and… a lust for revenge. For ultimate power."_

_Ariana looked into his eyes. "If you feel that parts of you are coming back to you at last, perhaps it means that soon we will be all that is left of a horrible time— a horrible event." _

"_If your brother attempts to meet with us here in the afterlife, I will destroy him," Tom growled._

_Ariana gave a small smile. She pressed her fingers to his cheek and made the wild, angry look fade. "Be at peace, my love. We are here, together. Let karma take care of karma. Let love be the only thing we know now." _

_Tom closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his face and the breezes across his skin. He opened his eyes and stared into her glowing, beautiful face. "I love you." _

_Ariana smiled radiantly. "I love you too." _

* * *

Hermione and Severus simultaneously bolted awake, startling Fawkes and Sagacity into comically floofed feather balls.

"I know what Voldemort is!" they cried together.

They stared at each other with wide eyes.

Severus pressed his lips to Hermione's forehead. "Let's tell all the others."

Hermione smiled at him and nodded.

* * *

"A construct?" Shattenjäger boggled.

"An automaton?" Greenpetal asked, sounding rather stunned.

"Yes, no, maybe?" Hermione said. "Golem, perhaps."

Severus waved his hand as the final Order member took their head out of the Pensieve. "The thing we know as 'Voldemort' is a _shade_. An unnatural creation forged in a dying moment of pure hatred, utter despair, and an all-consuming need for revenge. It was birthed by the true deaths of Tom Riddle and Ariana Dumbledore. Death powered its creation. The _real _Tom Riddle is dead, just like Ariana. All that remained afterward was a shattered construct made with the broken remains of Tom's soul when his love—his fully _bonded _love— died. He never survived it. The shade then took off where Tom had left off, driven by an unquenchable hatred to defeat, to _destroy _Dumbledore. He preserved some pieces of his soul in the Horcruxes he made, but the construct doesn't realise that it is _not _the true Tom Riddle. He doesn't know he's only a shadow, a memory, rather like a ghost given tangible form. _That's _why he can't make any more Horcruxes. _That's _why he's seemingly bound to Albus Dumbledore. The magic and emotion that went into the creation of 'Voldemort' is tied to Albus Dumbledore's murder of his younger sister. Accidental or not, it didn't matter. When Dumbledore killed his sister, Ariana, a piece of his soul broke off and was drawn into helping to power the shade. They are inexorably _bound _together— the shade and the man."

"Merciful gods," Highweather said, eyes wide in horror. "The tremendous amount of magic that would have gone into making such a thing. The emotion… the sheer hate… is simply staggering"

"So he's been using us all along," Charlus Potter whispered. "Albus has always watched over our family, or so we thought. He's always been such a good friend to us."

Dorea clasped her shocked husband's hand. "All for that _stupid _cloak," she said bitterly. "It has been a cursed heirloom ever since it first came to our family."

"Cursed?" Bayberry asked. "How?"

Charlus sighed. "The reason I never gave it to my son was that I was hoping the curse would eventually fade away. Every generation since the cloak came to us, our magic has been rendered impure."

"The magic does not flow through us or gift us as it did my ancestors. We _struggle _to keep it. The only thing that keeps us from completely losing our magic is marriage into another bloodline. It is why we are not one of the Sacred 28… er, nine. My family was forced to marry into other bloodlines and many of those marriages were achieved without formal courtships. Some of my relations simply… went to the Muggle church and after taking a simple blood test."

Many of the Order members fidgeted in dismay.

"It was the only way to keep our magic at all. The regular infusion of Muggle blood actually staved off the effects of the curse," Charlus said. "It was confirmed when I married Dorea, a Pureblood. When we had James, we greatly feared that our son would be a Squib. He had no discernable magic upon his birth. And he had no random accidents with magic as he grew. There was nothing to show to us that he was magical at all. When James finally got his Hogwarts letter, we were _so _relieved. I'm convinced that the cloak did this. It does not belong to us— to any human, mortal, not anyone but its original owner. It will curse anyone who wears it to _attract _Death. Not just a physical death but a magical one."

"What does it do?" Greenpetal asked.

"Like in the story," Charlus explained. "It renders one invisible. The more often the cloak is used, the more it seeps into your magic and steals it away. The irony is that it steals away the magic of your _children _rather than the actual wearer."

James Potter made a sudden choking sound as he sputtered out his mouthful of tea next to Sirius. Sirius patted him on the back gently.

"Dorea and I resolved to hide the wretched thing away," Charlus said as he pushed a securely wrapped bundle onto the table. "We could do nothing else. We hoped that if James never wore it, he would be protected from the curse. If he never knew about it, well, all the better in the face of Death."

"Take it," Dorea pleaded. "Please. If it can help you defeat this evil and put an end to our family curse, then so much the better."

"We would join you and your Order," Charlus stated resolutely. "The Potters will not stand to be used as pawns, all for the selfish goals of one man. We will stand for the many that were used as we have been, many of which we do not know and will probably never know."

"If you are willing to agree to the terms, my friends," Moody said. "It is not our choice to make."

Charlus and Dorea squared and raised their chins. "We agree."

Pearl hopped off Remus' shoulder as Amortentia and Elrond did the same. They talon-walked down the table and stared into Charlus and Dorea with wise, birdish eyes.

Pearl bobbed her head. Elrond seemed a bit skeptical. Amortentia peered into Dorea's eyes as if to weigh her soul for the afterlife. Viktor hopped over and stared too, fluttering his wings.

The four young phoenixes sang together, filling the room with joyous acceptance.

Moody snorted.

"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix," Lucius said, his fingers stroking the top of his elegant serpentine cane.

Habanero itched himself and shed two flawless feathers.

Lucius plucked them off the table and gently placed them in front of Violet Vinetender.

Tears came to Vinetender's eyes as she touched the feathers.

"Hopefully that powerful… odour wears off after a while," Remus whispered, rubbing at his offended nose.

Violet burst into tears as she went to work on the two newest feather hairpins for the Order. Beardog was already sniffling, rubbing furtively at his burning eyes.

Lucius pet Habanero with his fingers, hiding the slight flush of embarrassment rising on his fair skin.

Habanero, who polished off the last hot pepper he had been carrying in his beak, tilted his head quizzically, as if wondering what the problem was.

Every Animagus in the room burst into tears and began to rapidly file out of the room towards the garden and blessed fresh, untainted air.

"Meeting adjourned," Barberry sobbed, wiping at his streaming eyes as he hurriedly swept from the room.

Minutes later, only Lucius remained in the dining room-cum-meeting room. He stroked Habanero's feathers fondly. "You still have it, old boy," he cooed.

Habanero warbled happily and rubbed his beak against Lucius' smirking face.

* * *

There was something so terribly nostalgic about visiting Mr Ollivander's shop. While there were other places to get wands, none were as renowned as his store. The quality of his work was beyond reproach, and the wand truly _did _choose the wizard or witch. Other wand makers seemed to profit by allowing people to choose their wands based solely on style preference, and the inappropriate match often didn't backfire until much later in their career and usually at the worst possible time… when faced with a duel against someone whose wand _had_ chosen them.

When it came to Hogwarts students, however, Ollivander was pretty much the universal go-to wand maker. Hermione gazed around the shop, her nostrils flaring as she scented the distinctive odours of various aged woods and fresh parchment. Even more interesting was the peculiar way time seemed to flow within the shop. Each wand seemed to attract different time streams, and it was suddenly much clearer exactly which wands had been waiting longer than certain others for the right witch or wizard to come by.

Severus gazed around with a little wonder, perhaps having experienced the very same revelation. His dark eyes flitted from box to box, and his fingers caressed the length of his wand as if to reassure himself that the bond between wizard and wand had not been in error.

"Ah, Lord and Lady Snape," Ollivander's cheerful voice rang out through the store. " My congratulations on your recent marriage. It has been quite some time since I've seen either of you in my store. Much too early yet to be fitting wands to your children, I think? Tell me, what brings you to my humble establishment?"

Hermione tilted her head and peered at Ollivander. "I think you know exactly why we're here, Mr Ollivander. I will not insult you by pretending this is not so."

Ollivander chuckled, "Come in, come in. I have tea waiting in the back." He flipped the sign on his door to closed with a flick of his wand. "Please, join me."

Hermione and Severus followed him to the rear of the shop where he had a door leading to personal living quarters.

As they sat down with their tea, Parchment popped his head out from Hermione's hair and looked around before dipping his beak into the teacup.

Hermione stared at the phoenix with a shake of her head. "Manners. What are you, a chick?"

Parchment peeped at her as if to answer, "Well, yes!" The overgrown chick hid back under her hair, somehow making himself blend into it.

"Stories tell me that the two of you are a very special couple indeed," Ollivander commented with a slight smile on his lips. He sipped his tea as he thoroughly looked them over. "Stories, however, can be made up."

"I fear most of the stories you have heard are probably just that," Severus told him. "Neither of us can banish gnomes from your garden without burning it to the ground and beyond, and if we touch your baby, they will not suddenly be luckier than those we have not."

Ollivander laughed. "No, no, that is not what interests me," he confessed. The older wizard looked at both Hermione and Severus. He seemed to be evaluating them. "The majority of Wizarding kind have very little knowledge of wands, save what they have been told by people like me. Those like myself, however, know that certain creatures have very different sorts of traits. Some can be the most magical of all, while others are content with mere mediocrity."

Ollivander stared into the fireplace. "A gryphon is a most noble beast— every bit as remarkably intelligent as it is fierce. Its feathers, however, make for very fickle wands that wait for a particular person much like it would wait for the ideal mate. Often those wands find no one worthy for many, many years, which means a Gryphon wand choosing any witch or wizard to bond to is an exceedingly rare thing. If I were to make wands with such a material, my shelves would be full, but the wands would likely never leave my shop."

Garrick sighed. "When I was a young man trying to prove myself to my father in the craft of my father's father's father and so on before that. I wanted to craft a wand of the likes of which had never before been seen. I greatly wanted to _prove _I was better than Kneazle and troll whiskers or Veela hair. I wanted to be beyond Dittany stalks, kelpie manes, and coral. In many ways, I did prove I was beyond such things, but still, I craved to be even better. I wanted to craft a wand with a phoenix feather as a core. It was not so that I could use it, mind you, no. It was so that I could know that I _could_, and that somehow, in making it, it would bring someone to greatness."

Severus and Hermione listened carefully to Ollivander's story without interrupting.

"One day, a young man showed up at my shop, and he told me he had heard that I was looking for a very special kind of material," Ollivander explained. "It was none other than a young Albus Dumbledore— already quite a powerful wizard in his own right. At the time, he was not yet Headmaster, but it was altogether clear that he was headed towards exactly that"

Garrick stroked his face thoughtfully. "He offered me two twin feathers of a phoenix, the like of which I had never before seen. The quality of these feathers was absolutely pristine. They were priceless beyond anything I had ever seen until that point. I was willing to offer him anything… _anything _to get them."

"He asked for only one thing," Ollivander said. "I'm sure you can guess precisely what that one thing was."

"The Elder Wand," Hermione said.

Garrick nodded. " Just so. The wand was never ours to use, you see," Ollivander said. "We did not defeat the original owner, my family that is. We could only keep it safe through time in the hopes that its power would not end up in the wrong hands. There are some things that should never be used, no matter how good one's intentions might seem. He said he meant it to be a gift for a good friend of his who wanted to change the world for the better."

"I knew my father would never allow the Elder wand to land into anyone's hands with such overwhelming ambition. Selfish ambition, he would have said, was the downfall of the first brother," Garrick explained. "But I was desperate to get those feathers. So I sneaked into the family vault and took the wand. I allowed him to have it in exchange for the phoenix feathers, and then he left."

"I crafted two wands with the phoenix core," Garrick recalled. "What I did not realise at the time, for I had not yet studied well enough to sense such things in the material before the wand had been fully made, but the feathers had not been given willingly. The wands would be powerful indeed, but they would not be pure. The people they chose could be every bit as evil as they were great, so very unlike the noble creature the feathers had once belonged to."

"I then realised my mistake, and I went to my father in deep shame," Ollivander said. "That was when he informed me that the wand I had given to Dumbledore was not the real Elder wand at all. It had been a test for me… to see the kind of person I would have allowed to obtain such a great and terrible power."

Ollivander rubbed his head. "I fear that I cannot give you what you want," he said. "I did not lie to your Auror friends, but the reason is quite simple." He pointed to a drawer carved into the stone of the fireplace. "Since the wand was placed into our keeping, my family's that is, a great spell was placed upon its hiding place. "No one less than a certain age can even _see _the drawer, and no one who truly desires it or wishes to use its power for himself can take it from its resting place. So, my ancestors wished the wand to be protected from the innocent who do not know any better and from those that should know better, but crave it anyway."

Hermione and Severus exchanged glances.

"Every generation, the eldest Ollivander son crafts a new Elder Wand to take the place of the true one. We store it away as a curiosity, telling our sons that it is the real one, so that if they should be tempted to do as I did, the real Elder wand will still remain carefully hidden and impossible for the unworthy to obtain. The son always learns exactly why it is so important to keep such things away from those who crave it, and the power hungry wizards get their powerful wand, entirely unaware that it is not the true Elder Wand."

Severus tilted his head with curiosity. "How is it that they do not suspect?"

Ollivander smiled conspiratorially. "It is still an elder wand, Lord Snape, just not _the _Elder wand" he replied. "It is crafted of the finest elder wood one can find, often lightning stuck. The core is made of thestral hair, just as in the legends. It is an elder wand. It is just not _the _Elder wand for which they seek."

"So, I must ask you, Lord and Lady Snape," Garrick said with a sad smile. "What is it you would wish of the Elder Wand?"

"I want nothing of the thing," Severus said adamantly.

"I wish to return it to Death," Hermione said sombrely.

"_What_?" Garrick asked so very quietly.

"Each Hallow is bound to Death," she explained with a stony face. "It was never _meant _to be held for so very long by mere mortal hands. It cannot help but corrupt and curse all those who wish to use its powers. The first brother was doomed to die from the moment he first used it to kill another man. The second brother was doomed to die by his own hand the moment he used the Stone to bring the shade of his lost love back to him. The third brother, while he escaped Death for a great many years, cursed his own bloodline by passing the cape on to their children before allowing Death to claim him."

"The Hallows do not belong here," Severus stated firmly.

"They belong to Death," Hermione affirmed, "and to Him, they must return."

_Click_.

The three of them looked up to see the drawer over the hearth had slid open.

"Very well, then," Garrick said with a hush of profound respect. "I think it agrees with you."

Hermione and Severus remained in their chairs.

"Don't you wish to take it?" Garrick asked.

Hermione and Severus shook their heads together in negative.

Garrick smiled. "That, my friends, is why you are destined to have it. Take it with my blessing. I pray your noble quest succeeds."

Parchment warbled, hopping down into Hermione's lap to peer interestedly up at Ollivander.

Garrick's eyes widened in amazement. "Is that—?"

Hermione smiled. "Mr Ollivander, this is Parchment. Parchment, please say hello to Mr Ollivander."

Parchment warbled curiously, staring fixedly at the wand-maker.

"In all my days," Ollivander said. "Never did I ever expect to see a phoenix, and definitely not one so close in my own home."

Parchment fluttered over to Ollivander's knee and stared up at him, gazing into his face.

"Hello, young one," Garrick whispered with wonder.

Parchment sang, filling everyone present with boundless happiness.

Tears ran down Ollivander's cheeks. "I am but an old man. I have nothing to offer such grand creature as you."

Parchment lay his head on Garrick's chest and stared up at him fondly.

Ollivander wrapped his arms around the young phoenix and wept with joy.

Hours later, after Ollivander's shop was emptied of visitors and customers, Garrick was hard at work carving three new wands. In front of him lay three pristine phoenix tail feathers that still burned with white fire— a pale ivory, a feather as black as the midnight sky, and dark earthen sienna tipped with black. Parchment perched on the edge of a nearby chair, singing a glorious song of his own invention.

* * *

_Sunday, May 21st, 1978. Full Moon 100%_

Hope gazed out over the expansive gardens of Master Barberry's estate with no less wonder than on the day she had first arrived. Behind her was the small gatehouse that had become her new home, but she was certainly not complaining. Not at _all_. The gatehouse was considerably larger than than the space she had considered "hers" while she had been with Lyall. She had an entryway, a small but pleasant study, an efficient galley kitchen overlooking the gardens, a lovely spring-fed bath, and a comfortable bedroom that made the one she had used sleeping apart from Lyall seem like a mere closet.

She and Lyall had been long since separated, even though they had never divorced. She and Lyall had never again been intimate with each other after Remus had turned the first time. Part of it had been her fear that he'd find out _her _secret as well. Part of it had been she'd tasted the depth of his hatred for all things "unnatural." She had found that to be terribly hypocritical considering that he was a man who performed great spells using a stick in his hand. Sure, it was a wand, but when looked at logically, a man who could cast magic spells really had no business calling a werewolf unnatural.

A few months after Lyall was taken away to Abamagrad, er, Azkahaban—the names still confused her terribly at times—Hope had experienced a sort of gut-twisting pain. At first she had thought it was the change coming up on her and that she had somehow misread her callender. She fell on the ground, gasping, writhing, clawing futilely at the air and her collar, desperately trying to breathe. She had collapsed and blacked out only to wake up with Argus Filch, her newest friend in this strange new world of magic, sitting nearby and watching over her. He had prepared tea for them both. Mrs Norris was sprawled on her lap, purring madly, and an owl was perched on the nearby chair arm with its leg shoved out, clearly urging her to take the little scroll off its extended limb.

Argus had been visiting with her fairly often, using something called a… Port Car? The device allowed him to instantly appear just outside the gate and let himself in. The gate itself seemed to somehow recognise him, which was slightly unnerving to her. There were so many things that were very new and rather baffling, but when Master Barberry had offered her not only a job as a gardener doing exactly what she dearly loved to do and then offered her room and board along with a respectable salary, well, she was quite willing to go all in. Even better, she was on the grounds where her son apprenticed, happily allowing her to see him much more often than she ever had, even when he had been still growing up.

Argus had proven to be a fast friend and his help in adjusting as someone who was unable to use magic in a wholly magical world was simply invaluable. Mrs Norris chased both mundane and magical pests out of the floor of the little cottage quite regularly, and house-elves arrived with baskets of foods for her to cook at her leisure. Sometimes, the elves would stay and just watch her cook, utterly fascinated with the biscuits she would make into various different shapes and colours. She taught the eager little creatures how to make her favourite stews, snack mixes, and all the little things that she had taught herself make and put into Remus' school lunch boxes when he was little as well as the healing and comforting dishes she had tried to prepare for him for after his monthly changes.

Oddly, even when she transformed, she did not bite herself like Remus had sadly been prone to do. She was always completely free of scratches and scars when she woke up in the mornings on the floor of her parents' root cellar. She did not know why, and she rarely remembered anything after the pain started… anything but the image of her son's sweet face.

As she took the scroll of the owl's leg, she looked around for the bowl of small treats Argus had given her to feed to the usually hungry owls when they arrived with deliveries for her. The first time an owl had flown in the open window she had screamed in shock and surprise and taken off after the poor, confused bird with a broom. The innocent owl had perched high in the tree nearby, staring at her with wide, accusatory golden eyes for several hours until Argus had come and explained to her that it was only trying to deliver the mail.

Well, _that _explained why she didn't have a mail slot in her door.

As she thanked Argus for the tea, she opened the parchment and began to read, her eyebrows climbing higher and higher as she scanned the highly unexpected missive.

* * *

_Dear Ms Howell,_

_We regret to inform you that due to a magically-sealed mating bond between Lyall Lupin and Dolores Lupin (nee Umbridge) and the highly unusual circumstance of your (now-former) husband becoming infected with poodle-anthropy during his recent incarceration, your marriage to Mr Lupin has been annulled._

_Due to the rather drastic changes in Mr Lupin's status as a result of this unfortunate situation, we, at the Ministry for Magic, have agreed that the total assets from the seizure of Lupin's property and monies will be awarded to your Gringott's account due to his now lifelong incarceration and now questionable sentience. _

_We regret any discomfort this may have caused you, Ms Howell. If you should have any questions on the legalities, you may owl us here at the Office of Magical Accidents and Catastrophies. _

_Sincerely,_

_Babette Bollingsbury-Dunkirk_

_Office of Magical Accidents and Catastrophies_

* * *

So, just like that, Hope suddenly found herself a single woman again and with far more stability than she had ever had while she had been married to Lyall. Remus had brought her a pretty female barn owl and taught her how to address mail so that it would get to where she wanted it to go. Teaching her how to send mail to what she considered "normal" addresses was a bit trickier, but she kept a notebook with all of her how-tos written in it to save her sanity.

Master Barberry was a very kind employer, and he allowed her to customise the gardens to whatever aesthetic she so desired as long as she kept the tanglevines from tripping up the footpath and the duck-launching lilypads from throwing stunned ducks up onto his balcony. Minerva McGonagall's favourite rosebushes had to be meticulously tended to keep the voracious aphids off of them, and Hope was actually happy to note that most of the garden could be taken care of just as she always had in the Muggle world. She even managed to befriend an entire colony of ladybirds that had bright blue wing coverlets instead of the red she was used to, but she also found they responded to her voice. If she wanted to move them, all she did was reach out towards them, and they would promptly gather in her hands. She could then move them to wherever she required them, and they would climb off to devour the garden pests at their leisure. If only it were that easy back in her old garden!

The garden spiders were extremely polite and good-natured, and seemed to never invade any areas inside the house. They wove beautiful webs that glistened in the early morning dew. Sometimes they would have ornate patterns. Sometimes, there would be words written in the webs like "Salutations!" and "Terrific!" Hope had practically burst into tears the morning she returned home from a long night of dinner and conversation with Masters Barberry and McGonagall to find the trees outside of her home had been decorated in fine spider silk spelling out "Welcome Home."

She resolved at that moment to never again squash a spider without giving it ample opportunity to escape from her instinctive need to scream and flail about upon seeing one skittering blithely across her kitchen counter. Thankfully, since she had moved to this new place, the spiders were perfectly content to stay outdoors where they belonged.

The magical world was beginning to grow on her in a way she had never dreamed it would ever be able to. Lyall had always told her that while he appreciated her, they would never be able to live together in the magical world, hence their wholly Muggle home just outside of London. Now, she found herself with many new friends amongst the other staff at Barberry's estate, and none of them seemed even the least bit bothered by her lack of magical ability.

And then one day, a lovely new trend began to occur. One bright pink phoenix would show up on her windowsill and sing her heart away, filling Hope's very soul with joyous celebration. She had never seen a phoenix before, and she had immediately wished for a magical bird identification book.

_Pop!_

Tummel's Guide to Magical Birds suddenly appeared on her kitchen table.

_Well then… thank you?_

After confirming that she did, in fact, have a phoenix on her windowsill, she immediately rummaged around for some fruit to offer it, having read that they appreciated such things. The pink phoenix warbled in thanks and accepted the proffered gooseberry quite happily.

After a few minutes, she heard boots walking up the path to her door and she cautiously peered out to find a somewhat gruff-looking man, who appeared to be roughly around her own age, standing there at her door. He had a scowl on his face as though he was rather put out at having to be there.

"Good morning," Hope offered as she opened the door. "May I help you?"

The man's expression suddenly turned decidedly awkward. "Excuse me, ma'am. I'm looking for Amortentia. She flew out this way, and, well, she likes to stick her meddlesome little beak into everyone's business."

"Oh!" Hope replied, then smiled at him. "Your little darling is on my kitchen windowsill."

The man narrowed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath about sneaky avian conspiracies.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I put the kettle on just a couple minutes ago."

The man looked ready to bolt at a moment's notice. "I don't wish to be any trouble, ma'am."

"It's no trouble at all," Hope chuckled. "Please, do come in. My name is Hope. I help tend the gardens here. Were you here visiting Master Barberry or McGonagall?"

The man nodded and then shook his head as though he was clearing away quite an impressive collection of cobwebs. "Moody," he suddenly blurted. "Alastor… I— bloody hell. I'm Alastor Moody."

"Moody," Hope chewed on the name. "Pleased to meet you Mr Moody. I'm Hope L— well, I suppose I'm Hope Howell now."

Moody looked at her curiously.

Hope shrugged. "I received a letter from an office informing me that I'm no longer married because my ex-husband had some affair with a… were-poodle? I suppose I should be a bit upset about that, but I'll be honest and say I haven't felt this good in years."

Alastor blinked. "My condolen—"

Hope shook her head. "No need to apologise, Mr Moody. I and my ex-husband had not seen eye to eye since my son was attacked by Fenrir Greyback."

"Please," Moody insisted. "Alastor."

"Well, then, Alastor, please call me Hope," she said, waving him in.

That had been the beginning of a near-daily morning ritual. The feathered pink alarm clock would sing her awake around dawn, and Alastor Moody would arrive in time for morning tea and biscuits. She had to admit she had soon come to look forward to her new visitors. The man had a very dry sense of humour that was quite endearing. He would often stay around and help her around the garden, saying very little, but seemingly enjoying her friendly company.

When he did speak to her, he had a very gruff and gravelly sort of voice, but she found it fascinating. He seemed utterly awkward when speaking to her, as if he was afraid she was such a fragile thing that she might break if he so much as looked at her wrong. She assured him she was no timid flower, but he seemed to need more convincing to the contrary.

Now, on the eve of her first transformation in her new home, Hope was more than a little nervous. She insisted on changing near her home rather than the other part of the garden, and she was even more nervous about meeting "the pack" even though Remus was convinced that things would go quite well. The pack was very concerned about Tala, who they suspected would undergo her very first transformation due to being inadvertently bitten by Hope while under the Full Moon Curse. Hope, having experienced many a transformation before, encouraged them to keep a close eye on Tala, rather than her. She was no stranger to the change. She was only relieved that for the first time in her life, she would be able to do it in the security of a place she called home.

Unsure of how strong the pack-bond was between her wolf and the established pack, she harboured her worry that something might happen that would have her gallivanting off across the moors trying to find random people to bite. Alastor, however, volunteered to stay with her and "keep her out of trouble" if something unexpected were to happen, but he had listened to her stories of her changes and how she had never bitten herself or tried to escape her parent's root cellar. He was convinced she would be okay.

There had been a few raised eyebrows when Moody had volunteered, and Alastor had merely snarled at them, waving them off. Privately, Hope was growing quite fond of the rugged Scottish Auror and his awkward brand of charm. He had a calming sort of scent that was so utterly masculine that there was no doubt whatsoever about his maleness quotient. He smelled like the woody bite of fresh sawdust, that first cup of black coffee that slaps you fully awake, and just a touch of sinfully rich, dark caramel. It was no wonder the man could have a pink phoenix and still have no one dare to question his masculinity. She admitted, at least to herself, that she really wanted to _roll _in his scent, and she imagined her wolf on her back, all four feet up the air as she simply wallowed in it.

She was starting to have more images of her lupine self invading her thoughts. Her wolf seemed just as curious about Moody as she was, perhaps even more so. The infusion of wolfish thoughts was not as it had once been— alien and a constant reminder of how alone she was and always would be. No, now the wolf came to her when she was happy, sharing in her peaceful moments rather than her sorrows. As the full moon approached, she started to feel happy—excited even— as the need to become one with her inner wolf drew closer. The wolf had been the only constant, the sole comfort in her life for three days of the month ever since Remus had passed his lycanthropy on to her. Even knowing the pain of the transformation, she always remembered feeling a fleeting sense of peace and homecoming as she and her wolf became one again, just before everything went black. She also remembered how very alone she would feel as soon as she had woken up: so bereft, vulnerable, naked and abandoned.

Hope pulled Alastor's leather coat over herself to cover her nudity, waiting patiently for the change to begin. His scent was soothing and comforting, and his warmth lingered on the smooth leather like a potent healing balm. She snuffled the coat eagerly, gold spreading across her eyes. She thought of him— his pale blue eyes and scruffy, dirty-blond hair.

She began to pant, the feeling of a rushing warmth spreading through her body. Soon the pain would come, she knew. That piercing, terrible agony. She thought of Alastor, and his awkward gaze and even more awkward touch when he helped her lift things. Would he still come to visit her after he saw her change? Would it irrevocably _break _something in him like it had between herself and Lyall?

The moonlight bathed the fair skin of her body and she closed her eyes, waiting for the twisting, jerking, ripping of her limbs to begin. She felt the wolf spreading through her body and mind— the tickling brush of fur under her tender flesh as it waited to push itself out and reshape her body.

Her jaw worked, her teeth growing as her jaw elongated. She whined, expecting the pain she had become so used to. Her eyes glowed bright gold as fur sprouted over her body. Her limbs twitched and jerked, bones snapping and reforming. Her ribs cracked and regrew. Her hands and feet twisted into paws.

Hope opened her eyes, standing up on all four legs. What the?

She looked up at the moon and then down at her paws as well as the length of her short muzzle. What just happened? Surely there should have been pain? Such thoughts left her as the flood of other senses took over. She could hear so much more. She could smell so much more in the garden. Her ears perked and her tongue lolled as she and her wolf were one.

Her tail was wagging. She rolled all over Alastor's leather jacket, saturating her fur with his addictive scent. She took into in her mouth and carried it with her into the garden, tail wagging furiously.

Alastor was sitting on a very large toadstool, watching her with careful eyes. His wand was in his lap, but he was not tense or fearful. Hope whined softly, bringing his coat over to him, her tail wagging trustingly. She lay her head in his lap and whined softly, looking up at him with her soul in her golden eyes.

Alastor slowly pet her ears, causing her to groan softly, her eyes closing with pure pleasure. Alastor slid down to the ground and pet her head, and her tongue shot out to lick his face and chin, bathing his fresh and old cuts and bruises from his many battles doing what Aurors did best. Alastor's eyes fluttered as a strange lethargic warmth spread through him.

"I'm glad you weren't in pain, my girl," he whispered. He stroked her head and back as she snuffled him, tail wagging. "I made the mistake once of not being there for the one I care for. I cared for her very much, but in trying to provide for her I made the mistake of not being there for her."

Hope whined and licked his face.

Alastor rubbed her ears, feeling oddly more relaxed around the werewolf than he was around the human Hope. Perhaps, her current form seemed easier to connect with, or, perhaps his insecurities seemed less so when he thought she wasn't judging him.

"We never married," Alastor confessed to the werewolf. "She wanted to be free. I could not deny her that one last request."

Hope stared him at him, her golden eyes glowing softly in the dark of the evening.

"I don't know if you'll even remember this in the morning, but you're a very special woman," Alastor grunted. "Lyall was a sodding fool. He was blind not to see the strength of a woman who had the compassion to hold her baby son as he changed. He was even more blind not see the courage and greatness in his son."

Hope whined, nuzzling Moody's face and neck, licking him tenderly.

"I am a coward," Alastor confessed. "I can't tell you when you can answer me back, just how much I adore how you sing to your plants, how you attract the pond ducks that follow you everywhere, and how your hair glows in the morning sun. I am afraid. I'm afraid that it's been only a short time. I'm afraid you'll think me mad. I'm afraid if I tell you, that it will end like it once did… with me struggling to work, to provide, and realise I should have been there instead. I wish to be there for you— for the small things and the large things. I wish I could be there for you now and comfort you as a pack might comfort you— to share in all your nights as well as your days. I would want for nothing more than to be the one you judged worthy… if only I could get over myself and just tell you to your face."

Hope licked his face, and Alastor smiled, pulling her to him as one might draw a hound to them in a cuddle. He pressed his face into her fur and smelled the oddly fitting scent of sticky toffee pudding, fresh, sweet cream, and tea roses.

She bathed his face with long strokes. The warmth seemed to spread over his entire body. His eyes fluttered.

So _sleepy_.

He sank slowly to the ground, with Hope whining and licking his face methodically. His arm went around her neck pulling her towards himself. She licked under his chin, snuffling and nuzzling. Deep amber bled into his eyes that began to grow lighter and lighter until it was a brilliant, bright gold.

The last thing he knew was the feel of Hope's warm fur and the intoxicating smell of tea roses, sticky toffee pudding and fresh, sweet cream.

* * *

Gilford and Minerva snuggled up together as they watched over the garden. The full moon cast its solemn radiance down upon the fragrant, night-blooming flowers. Orion was sprawled out in the middle of the fountain in his chimaera form, half covered in water and happy phoenixes, keeping steady watch over the newest addition to the pack during her first change. Alastor had graciously offered to remain with Hope during her change, knowing she felt more comfortable going through it in private, rather than around her son and his friends.

Tala, a werewolf with a glossy, deep auburn coat and a radiant, white-tipped plume for a tail, enthusiastically greeted her fellow packmates. The new werewolf seemed especially curious about James Potter, and took extra time to snuffle his rather large moose nose. He towered over her with his impressive rack of antlers, but she didn't seem even the slightest bit intimidated, just intensely curious. Sirius nipped playfully at her tail, and they chased each other around the fountain a few times before Orion stuck out his paw and tripped them both up to land squarely on Tuft, who yelped with surprise.

Tuft snuffled Tala curiously, tail wagging slowly as he figured out who she was. He seemed to realise that he knew her, and his tail began wagging furiously. Tala rolled over and licked his chin, batting at his jaw with her forepaws.

Hermione and Severus sniffed her over thoroughly, and Tala squirmed under their combined ministrations. She snuffled, tail wagged, and licked at their chins, seeming to realise she was not the boss of anyone, and she was perfectly okay with that. Well, except for Sirius, who she took great pleasure in sprawling on top of, pinning the bloodhound down easily with her werewolf bulk.

Sirius whined, complaining, but everyone ignored him until Regulus came over and sat on him too.

Tala didn't seem to know quite what to do with Regulus. He was large, barrel-shaped, and didn't have the "right" signals that told her how to act around him. The new werewolf sniffed, whined, and wagged her tail, trying to get a play response, but Regulus just sat on his brother and yawned toothily.

Orion, however. She knew _exactly _what she had to do for him.

The young werewolf came up to him, tail lowered but wagging, her muzzle raised slightly up to lick him under the chin in supplication. She whined, rolling on her back and tap, tap, tapping his jaw with her front paws ever so gently.

Orion bared his teeth and pressed them to her neck, pinning her down for a moment, and then let her up. It was done.

Tala lapped at his muzzle happily, tail wagging in acceptance of her pack leader, relieved that she didn't have more responsibility than she wanted. She raced around the garden, sniffing everything excitedly.

Orion let out a rumbling hggghhh hgggggaaa sound followed by a low, thundering roar. Tuft howled, followed by Hermione and Severus. Sirius bayed, James made an odd whistling, snorting sound, and Tala let out a higher-pitched howl from where she lay in the garden.

Then twin howls came in reply from the orchard side of the garden.

Barberry turned to Minerva in frank puzzlement.

Rustling and crashing sounds came just before a wet sawdust-coloured wolf and a golden brown wolf bounded together into the garden from the direction of the orchard.

Orion stood almost immediately, a low rumble of warning in his throat. He towered over his pack, rising to meet the new arrivals and potential interlopers.

The golden brown wolf skidded to a halt almost immediately, showing the chimaera her belly and licking the bottom of Orion's jaw in supplication. The wet sawdust-coloured wolf, however, seemed to be frozen in place with indecision. He approached somewhat stiffly, his tail half-lowered but not completely tucked as though he wasn't quite sure what to do. Then, a light seemed to go off in the wolf's head, and he whined, turning his neck and licking Orion's chin. Orion pinned them both easily with his huge paws, snuffling them. Then, as quick as that, he let them up, flopping back into the fountain to soak.

The rest of the pack came up to inspect the new arrivals, all sniffing, nuzzling, and determining who was who. Tuft, Hermione, and Severus all came up the somewhat gruff-looking sawdust wolf and licked under his chin, tails lowered respectfully. The older wolf raised his tail slightly and wagged it, gently nipping at their muzzles in return. Hope, however, clearly had other plans for the rest of their evening, and pounced on him, nipping his ears and then dashing off a short ways.

The sawdust-coloured wolf eyed her with interest.

Hope wagged her tail and play-bowed, then scampered off into the hedges.

The sawdust wolf immediately tore after her, quickly disappearing into the undergrowth.

Tuft, Hermione, and Severus sat down with quizzical looks on their lupine faces. Orion yawned lazily, seemingly unconcerned and unimpressed.

Barberry turned to Minerva with a raised brow. "How many werewolves do we have in our garden again?"

Minerva blinked. "Three? Remus, Tala and Hope. Then Severus and Hermione as the non-werewolf wolves."

Barberry stroked his chin thoughtfully with his fingers. "I think, my love, we have somehow acquired another new wolf for our growing pack."

Minerva's eyes widened. "We've adopted one?"

Barberry grinned. "I think Hope made a friend… literally."

Minerva's grin spread across her face and filled her eyes with laughter. "How wonderful! I wonder who the lucky wolf is?"

Shattenjäger sat down next to Minerva and Gilford, refilling their teacups. "Moody," he informed them smugly, his lips quirking with suppressed laughter.

Barberry and McGonagall almost dropped their cups. "_**Alastor**_?"

Shattenjäger grinned broadly in unmistakable amusement. "Know anyone else who could make a wolf look so grumpy?"

Barberry let out a loud peal of laughter.

There was a joined howl from far out in the garden as a warm surge of magic spread out over the estate. The phoenixes in the garden warbled a reply, singing a joyous song of celebration.

"Oh _my_," Minerva whispered.

Shattenjäger's face was all smiles. He clapped his hands together delightedly. "I shall speak with Rosmerta about hosting a properly raucous wedding reception."

"I believe I shall handle the invitations," Barberry volunteered.

Minerva smiled ever so slyly. "And I'll make sure they can't wiggle out of it."

Shattenjäger grinned. "I've always loved that about you, Minerva. You were always so pragmatic."

Minerva winked at the Auror. "I'm a cat, Klaus. I was _born _with claws."

Barberry looked out over the garden. While the rest of the pack seemed to be occupied, Orion was looking out towards the orchard with avid interest. "I wonder if our newlyweds even realise that they are?"

"Ah, well," Shattenjäger laughed. "They will… tomorrow."

* * *

"Is this going to be a pack thing? Sirius whispered to James as they watched Alastor and Hope getting bushwhacked by the Minister for Magic in a secretly-planned surprise wedding. They had just exchanged the rings and said their vows, and had no one known the fact the wedding was quite unplanned, many would have thought the new couple had been ready for years.

"Getting married overnight due to unexpectedly sealing a magical bond?" James asked, amused. "Don't look at me. Your sister and brother-in-law are the masters at that."

"I'm feeling pretty glad now I didn't end up magically married to Magnolia Mayweather," Sirius said, swallowing hard and shuddering visibly at the thought.

"Hey, at least Moody doesn't have to worry about explaining to his new wife that their first kid might arrive in the world as a mythical creature," James commented idly.

Sirius moaned, thunking his head solidly down on the wooden table. "Don't _remind _me."

"So, what do you think happened?" James asked. "I will admit my eyes glazed over a bit when they said "magically-sealed marriage"."

Regulus sat down beside them clutching extra mugs of butterbeer. "When there is a strong bond between a werewolf and their adopted pack and they are pack-bound, something changes in their saliva. They aren't infectious per se, not in the violent make-a-werewolf kind of way that happened before the Wolfsbane potion. Sometimes, when there is a true bond of… if you will… love, between a were and their ideal mate or a significant friend, it binds a non-werewolf into the pack and allows them to change in order for them to safely be together. Kind of like an Animagus wolf, only just on full moons, or as we recently saw with Hermione and Severus, when the werewolf is forced to change against their will. Tala said she had started to see it with the werewolves out in the secret preserve. She hasn't written anything officially about it because it's such a private and personal kind of thing. The pack-bond is a special thing in itself, but to love someone enough to allow them to change like that? That's kind of amazing. Tala doesn't want to bring any undue attention to the preserve either, so it's not common knowledge that werewolves possess this ability."

James sipped his drink. "Can you imagine how wonderful that would be? To be not only safe around someone who is a werewolf, but be able to share their life? Run with them? Understand them? I can't even imagine how wonderful that must be for any family."

"Have any of those given this gift felt they wanted to reject the gift?" Sirius asked, his face sombre.

Regulus shook his head. "Tala says no. She says the families are so _relieved_. It's brought them even closer together. Learning to become an Animagus is too difficult for most people. It takes serious commitment to hold a mandrake leaf on your tongue for a whole month and then not to end up trapped in between, and many people do not see the advantages as being worth the risks. This phenomena is a blessing— and it only seems to happen to those that, in their heart, truly want to be there for the werewolf in question."

James took a swig of his drink. "Moody, though. Wow," he said, shaking his head in amazement.

"I think I know how it happened," Sirius said, suddenly quite thoughtful.

Curious eyes stared at him.

Sirius smiled a little. "Moody has always had this horrible dream that he'd die somewhere in the middle of a huge battle. Someone who was supposed to watch his back didn't do their job, leaving him to die alone instead. He's always believed that no woman could care for someone like him, understand his horrible hours, accept that sometimes work is more important than a home life."

"He was… rejected, wasn't he? Back when he was our age?" Regulus asked.

"Yeah, by a young Scottish witch he'd known since they were kids," Sirius said, nodding sombrely. "He used to talk about her sometimes when we'd go out for drinks after training. He loved her, but he had the absolute worst hours as a young, rookie Auror, and their relationship just crumbled under the strain of it all. He was working so hard to provide for them, but—"

"It made it so he wasn't around," James finished.

"Aye," Sirius said, nodding. "She denied him the final bond, and he let her go. Then, he became the gruff, workaholic Auror we all know today."

"I hate to say it, but," Regulus said. "If it all led to this moment with two people so obviously happy, then maybe it wasn't such a bad thing in the end."

Sirius tilted his head. "He's a really good man and an excellent partner, and just the kind of mentor that I needed to knock some sense into my brain when I sorely needed it. He deserves real happiness, and so does Remus' mum. After we met that horrible man she used to be married to, I think he deserves to be mated to a bloody pink were-poodle in Azkaban."

James raised a glass. "Hear, hear to that!"

"I hear they haven't changed back, unlike werewolves," Regulus said.

Sirius shook his head. "Apparently when the two, uh," he stopped, making a disgusted face. "When they uh… well. When they found each other, it locked them into their poodle form."

"Gross," James groaned, making a disgusted face before taking another drink. "They didn't have puppies did they?"

Regulus made gagging noises. "_**Merlin**_, mate, no!"

Sirius shrugged. "So far, nothing. They've done intelligence and sentience scans on them as well, and if anything of either Lyall Lupin or Dolores Umbridge still exists in that shared psyche, they aren't dominant anymore."

"A fitting fate, really," James commented.

Sirius snorted. "Dementors can feed of them endlessly and it just makes them happy poodles."

"What?" Regulus questioned.

Sirius shrugged. "They don't know why, but Dementors actually adore feeding off were-poodles, and it just leaves them as perfectly calm and happy were-poodles for hours. We're hearing from the Azkaban warden and guards that the Dementors are actually a lot less horrible to be around ever since they started feeding on Umbridge and Lupin."

James shook his head, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "That's just not right, mate."

The gathered were all clapping and cheering as Alastor Moody kissed his new wife, and a flare of magical warmth flooded the Three Broomsticks.

Ogden and Amortentia sang happily together, filling the room with absolute joy and unconditional love.

* * *

_19th of September, 1979. Waning Crescent 24%_

Albus arrived in the darkened room with a dull _fwoop _followed by a sharp _crack_. He was dizzy and disoriented and he found himself propping himself up on the nearby furniture to keep himself from toppling over. He had felt so strange traveling through time on this particular instance, but then again, he had never used the device track down a specific person at their most vulnerable time. Time had been relatively easy, but time and a specific person, well, that was a whole, new experience.

Normal time-turning had only managed to get him a few hours back at the most. The enhancement by using the phoenix egg had allowed for much more flexibility— days or weeks more as well as allowing him to return back to the time he had left from without incident. At first he had felt a little guilty for utilising the phoenix egg, once he had found out that it seemed to use up the energy inside. He had found that returning the egg to the nest seemed to reconnect to whatever allowed a phoenix to tap into time, but the regeneration was too slow to be effective for his use, and he hadn't learned to put them back in the nest until a number of them had been drained practically dry.

Now, however, he knew that none of it mattered. If he fixed things back in the one time that really mattered, nothing that he did now would matter in the end. The past would be fixed, the future would be perfect, and the greater good would be preserved.

He just had a few loose ends to take care of.

Baby burbles and soft coos caught his attention.

Ah, so there she was.

Brown eyes stared up at him, but did not truly see him. She seemed focused on something else, waiting for some indicator of familiarity or comfort.

Strange that her eyes looked so brown in the light. Her eyes should have been grey, but maybe that was something that happened later like it did with some blue-eyed children.

He had expected the Black family crib to be more… black for some reason, not this white-washed colour containing pastel baby blankets. Little planets and stars hung from the mobile, and Albus figured that was normal for a family that had a tradition of naming their children after constellations.

The baby cooed and burbled at him, and he stared down at her with his blue eyes. He took out his wand.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Albus said. "but I fear you have meddled enough in my affairs. On the bright side, your brother will grow to be a perfect Gryffindor and rebel of the Black family.

He pointed his wand at her, "Don't worry, I tested this on my little friend Argus. You won't feel a thing or have any side effects except for a disturbing affinity for cats." He waved his wand over her, muttering his spell.

The baby's face wrinkled up as if in pain as glowing fissures cracked across her body and her dormant magic began to leak out. She began to cry loudly and squirm in obvious distress.

Albus frowned, reaching into his robes for the calming drought. Odd, Argus hadn't responded this way. As he pulled out the draught, he realised it wasn't the draught at all. It was the time-turner. The egg it was attached to was cracked and glowing just like the baby's skin. Tendrils of time were flowing out of it.

Albus fumbled with it, shifting his attention to healing the egg and keeping its precious time within in.

The baby wailed and screamed.

"Did you hear that?"

"I'll go check on her!"

Albus fumbled, and the time turner fell into the crib, the fractured egg making contact with the baby's fractured magic-leaking skin. Time was flowing into the baby, filling in the magical wounds that he had created. There was a bright flash of light, and Albus felt himself being firmly shoved back into the time-stream against his will. He tried reaching for the for the time-turner, but his hands went right through it as though he was as insubstantial as a ghost.

Albus Dumbledore faded away completely, sucked helplessly back into the time-stream.

Mr Granger picked up his baby girl and rocked her, soothing her cries.

"There, there, Hermione, my sweet, little Hermione," Mr Granger cooed. "Everything is fine. Daddy is here. See? There you go, my love. That's a good girl."

Hermione Jean Granger stared up into the eyes of her father and cooed.

Mr Granger picked up the strange golden hourglass that had no sand within. " Where did you get this, Hermione?" he asked his baby.

"Is she okay?" Mrs Granger asked as she came into the room, pulling her pale pink bathrobe around herself.

"She's fine, aren't you, Hermione?" Mr Granger said with a smile.

Hermione grabbed her father's finger tightly, cooing.

"That's my girl."

* * *

_Tuesday, November 3rd, 1959. Waxing crescent 10%_

_I wish Hermione Granger had never existed!_

Hermione went flying into the Black family tapestry, her blank eyes staring fixedly into space as Ronald's curse hit her straight in the chest, blasting her back through the fabric of the magical tree. Her body was consumed in fire, falling to ash against the tapestry and the base of the wall.

"_**Ron, no!"**_ Harry screamed in horror. "_**What have you done!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" **_

Hermione was floating in the time-streams, first only as thought, then as a dawning awareness. She was aware of being rocked as though by the motion of the sea. Her body was strange, forming, reforming, and unforming all at once. Her soul was on fire. Her body was reborn in cleansing flames.

She saw herself, a baby, with her magic being drained only to be saved by a fractured phoenix egg. They were one. They had always been one from the very moment they touched. The egg had been her, waiting, waiting, waiting for the time when the circumstances were just right and ripe for her rebirth. She had been reborn before she had even reached one day old.

All thanks to _him_.

One Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Hermione screamed, the sound piercing the time-streams as her body was consumed in white, purifying fire. She struggled free of the time-stream, thrusting her body out with the beat of her new wings, giving birth to herself as all phoenixes did.

_Rage!_

_Fiery Retribution!_

_Fury unending!_

She broke free of the slipstreams, shooting out of them like a bullet into the brightness of the living world.

Walburga screamed as she gave the final push, and the dazed-looking phoenix chick tumbled out of the birth canal with a single, miniature cry of displeasure.

The medi-witch scooped her up and dried her off, but the little chick was wrathful, and fire was consuming the towels.

Orion quickly snatched the flaming bundle in his hands, his grey eyes staring down at the furious chick in his hands. "Hello, my chick," he purred softly, his grey eyes meeting hers. "Welcome to the House of Black, my daughter."

Hermione looked into the loving eyes of her father for the first time and all the rage she had harboured abruptly faded away as she gave her first loving, adoring warble of worship to her Lord father.

Orion smiled down at his first born with love and cradled her snugly to his chest.

Hermione Ankaa Black of the ancient and noble House of Black knew she was _loved_. Her own tiny heart filled with love and it never left again.

* * *

_9th of January, 1960, Waxing Gibbous 83%_

Albus landed face first on the wooden floor, rubbing his bruised and aching nose as he pulled himself up. That hadn't gone at all as planned, but at least he had managed to drain some of the girl's magic before he had fumbled with the time-turner. If he was lucky, the turner would have stolen the rest of her magic away. When he went back, everything would surely be better.

He heard footsteps, and he immediately disillusioned himself.

"There, there, little one," a tall, dark-haired man with a prominent aquiline nose said as he patted the baby over his shoulder. The baby burped softly. "Ha! You drink like a fish, my little Severus. You're going to grow up big and strong if you keep eating like that."

"Tobias?" a woman's voice called from the hall.

"Up here, my love," Tobias answered back. "Just tucking in our little guy into bed."

A young woman came into the room and wrapped her arm around Tobias' waist. Tobias smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Eileen, you should be resting. I said I would take care of him tonight. Tomorrow, when you have slept, everything will be better."

"It's already better," she complained, gazing up at him with love.

Tobias smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. "He's going to be a wizard, huh?" he said with amusement. "Pointed hat and a wand?"

Eileen smiled. "I was never too keen on the pointed hats, but the wand, yes."

Tobias laughed. "The first day I saw you, I knew you were special. It wasn't until later I realised why."

"My magic?"

Tobias pressed his lips to her nose. "You gave me a chance, woman."

Eileen grinned at him.

"You be sure to keep that account aside for him," Tobias said. "Mother always said to keep a little away each day so your children could always go to school."

Eileen nodded.

Tobias looked thoughtful. "Do you ever… regret staying with me? Giving up that world of magic?"

Eileen shook her head. "I'm with you, Tobias. It's what I want. Severus will have a kind and loving father. What more could I ask for?"

"Some bloke with a wand?" Tobias quipped, eyebrow raising.

Eileen laughed. "I don't regret it, Tobias. I love you."

Tobias looked down at her fondly, his black eyes sparkling with emotion. "I love you too."

Severus squirmed in his arms, and Tobias lay him down in the crib on his back. "There you go, little man," Tobias said with affection. "Sleep for now, and mummy will open the wet bar in the morning."

"Tobias!"

The dark-haired man laughed, pressing his finger to his lips to hush her.

Eileen looked affronted and then amused.

"Come, let's get some sleep before the little guy decides he wants seconds." He leaned down and gave his wife a tender kiss, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

The couple shuffled off down the hallway.

Albus disillusioned himself and began to cast his spell.

Again, cracks formed in the baby's skin, allowing for the magic to leak out. Baby Severus began to wail.

"There, there, just a little longer and you won't ever have to worry about doing whatever you did that turned your father into a drunken, horrible man," Albus cooed as he pulled out the time-turner to adjust it for the trip back. He looked with concern at the cracks forming on the egg he had it attached to. What the hell? Was he going too far back in time? He would have to make this hurry up!

Severus cried.

"Hey, little man," Tobias called from the door. "I forgot to give you your— _**WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?**_"

Albus dropped the time-turner in his haste, spinning around. "_Pax Vobis!_"

A green spell zinged out of Albus' wand and smacked into Tobias's forehead. Tobias went flying against the far wall, cracking his skull against the drywall with a thud.

"Tobias?" Frantic footsteps were coming.

Albus turned around to pick up his time-turner and his fingers passed right through it. No! Dammit, no! Time sand was leaking out of the egg and pouring into baby Severus' magical wounds.

Albus Dumbledore disappeared.

Eileen hurried to Tobias' side. "Tobias! Tobias! Are you okay? What happened?"

Tobias groaned.

Eileen cradled him, whispering the few healing spells she knew that didn't require a wand.

Tobias' eyes shot open, his black eyes hardening with hate. "Get your hands off me, you freakish bitch!" He backhanded her, struggling to stand up.

Eileen gasped, holding her hand to her stinging cheek. "Tobias?"

Tobias' mouth turned into a sneer. "You disgust me. Saddled with you and freakish child. A freakish child from a freakish woman! A whore." Tobias stormed out of the room. Minutes later, she heard the clash of the liquor cabinet that he had sealed saying he would keep it as a reminder of the sins of his father and what alcohol did to a family. She could smell the stink of whisky.

"Tobias?" Eileen whimpered, tears coming down her face as her hands trembled.

Meanwhile, in his crib, Severus cried on deaf ears.

* * *

_Friday, October 28th, 1977 Full Moon_

The moment his lips touched Hermione's there was fire in his heart. It was fire in his core. It was fire in his soul. He was burning up. He was being consumed.

The fire grew in his chest and expanded from his body. consuming his entire frame in bright white fire. Deep inside his chest, the egg cracked, hatching, finally matured enough hatch. Finally brushed by the touch of a perfect female phoenix to coax the protective egg harboured within him to crack— the egg exploded outward, and Severus screamed. Power flowed out of his mouth as he did. Fire consumed his body. A cocoon of fire enveloped them both, pulsing like a joined heartbeat.

Severus screamed, but it came out differently. Burning wings burst from his back as his human body burst apart and reformed, stretched and tore, and then knit back together.

The cool flames of Hermione quenched his heat. She sang to him. She bathed him in her loving embrace. Her wings folded around him.

The time-streams flowed into him, bathing him in its golden radiance. It gathered in every part of him and then burst through every pore as his body exploded in fire— a jet black phoenix wreathed in flames.

He was reborn.

He was complete.

He was as he was meant to be from the moment the egg had merged with body as a babe.

He was the phoenix.

He had found his mate.

Severus burst through the cocoon of fire with his mate, filling the room with the glorious flames of his rebirth.

He was _alive!_

* * *

_Monday, June 18th, 1962 Full Moon 100%_

Albus materialised at the final place, determined to make it work. He cast a stasis spell around the final time-turner and set it for the journey home. He looked around the dimly lit room. The final stop. The final speed bump to victory. Fix this one last thing and the rest of his plans would simply fall into place.

A small wooden crib was rocking itself by the window thanks to a magical charm. Hundreds of layers of wards covered the crib, causing Albus' eyebrows to raise in mute surprise. That was… _extreme_.

Albus looked into the crib, his eyes gliding over the colourful quilt covered in bright and attractive trains, obviously handmade with love. Albus sighed. He would have to deal with the wards before he could do what he needed to do.

The young Remus Lupin snuggled into a rather fuzzy plush monkey, cuddling with it tightly. He was dressed in a pajama suit styled to appear like a dinosaur, complete with dainty clawed feet. Albus tilted his head curiously, noting that small triangular spikes went down the back of Remus' pajamas. There was something somewhat familiar about the visual, but Albus couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Albus began to unravel the wards with his counter spells, painstakingly taking them out of the picture. Surely no child needed _that _many spells protecting them? Once Albus had done what he was there to do, he would replace the most important wards.

As he was finished, he began cast the spell to drain away the boy's magic. Surely this would be better. He would never grow up to meddle in things that didn't need meddling, and Remus would be safer in the Muggle world. Truly, he would be safer there, away from the influence of people like...

Suddenly, a low, ugly growl rumbled in from the open window. Baleful, hateful yellow eyes stared into the room, seeking tender, young prey.

The wards!

It was too late. Fenrir Greyback oozed himself into the small window, saliva dripping from his mouth. He sniffed the air, eyeing the small crib with singularly focused attention. It was like he didn't even care. His ribs showed clearly through greasy, matted fur. His ears were torn from multiple battles and had never been allowed to heal. His teeth were yellow and stained.

He didn't even _look _like a wolf.

His tail was half naked, only a tuft of thin fur clung stubbornly to the end. His muzzle was smooth and without fur, covered with a multitude of scars old and new as well as a small collection of scabbed over wounds. He looked positively sick and twisted on a very literal level.

Fenrir pounced on the crib, sending little Remus flying across the room. The child bounced hard and cried, screaming in pain and terror. Fenris descended upon the child, sinking his fangs into the child's soft, vulnerable body.

Remus shrieked in agony.

Albus sent spell after spell at Fenrir, missing a few due to the werewolf's startling agility. The werewolf snarled, foam and blood dripping from his fangs. The were glared at him with hate and pulled back his lips from his teeth.

Fenrir leapt, snarling, and Albus sent a quick cutting spell at him. The werewolf yelped in pain, falling to the ground. Pounding footsteps were coming. Lyall Lupin was yelling in rage. Albus grasped the time-turner in his hand and released the stasis spell, disappearing from sight as Fenrir slammed into the far wall instead of Dumbledore's body.

Lyall arrived, screaming curses as rapidly as he could at the werewolf. Fenrir staggered, hit by a few, but filled enough spite to smash his way back out of the window, leaving Lyall and Hope Lupin with their bitten, bleeding, and terrified young son.

Fenrir howled in sadistic victory. His pack would now increase by one more.

* * *

Tuft gently bathed the wounds of his friends as they lay unconscious under the Whomping Willow. His golden eyes glowing as he curled around them protectively, keeping them safe from harm.

His tail curled around his two friends. They were strangely human-looking, and yet they smelled like pack. They smelled like his friends, and Tuft knew his friends to be kind and loyal. They kept him company during the lonely full moon nights. They helped his human remain strong and accepting of him. He would _not _let them down. He would protect them.

Tuft nuzzled Hermione and Severus as they groaned feebly, their arms seeking the comfort of his warm fur. They curled up against his body and remained at his side. Tuft's tail wagged happily. This was where they _belonged— _his friends, his pack— at his side as they always were. He would ensure they were safe. Always.

Tuft licked them a few more times and then laid his head down between them with a content whuff. He closed his eyes.

_Pack._

_Safe._

_Home._

_Protect._

The full moon shone brightly above, but the night was peaceful, and the werewolf that had been Remus Lupin, the human, slept peacefully at his friends' sides.

* * *

Albus was tumbling through the slipstreams of time, faster than he ever had before. He felt as though he was being jerked this way and that, and unlike the times he had travelled before, this time he felt distinctly unstable and afraid.

He looked down at his time-turner, and his eyes widened in horror. The egg was cracked and grains of time-sands were streaming out of the egg into the time-streams themselves.

"Five hours at the most," Master Greenpetal had told him. "Five hours and back, or else you risk coming back as Mintumble once did."

The phoenix egg had fixed that. The egg had always made it stable, but something was very wrong. _No_! Things could not go wrong now! He had to make things right. He had to fix things for Ariana! He had to save her!

_**Ariana!**_

The slipstreams grabbed him and tore him away as he continued futilely screaming his dead sister's name.

* * *

_Isolated Beach, Unknown location, Undetermined time._

Albus fell into the sand, the fine granules filling his mouth, hair and beard. He spat out the sand, coughing and choking, pushing himself up on his hands and standing.

_No_.

Not _this _place.

The sea air was damp and salty. The wind was blowing gently off the waves. It was a peaceful day, or it would have been, if Albus hadn't known immediately what day it was.

He didn't want to be here. Not at _all_.

He stared down the beach, willing it to not be the scene he knew he would find.

Tom Riddle cradled the body of Albus' younger sister, screaming out in pain and anguish.

He saw himself approaching and Tom shakily pointing his wand at him, cursing at him.

Suddenly, Tom clutched at his chest and slumped over Ariana's lifeless body, the death of his love and the magical bond between them having taken his life along with hers.

Albus watched himself slowly walk away, knowing that his younger self would walk the beach for the next few hours before coming back to bury his poor sister's corpse.

Shades rose up from the still bodies— half-transparent images of his sister and Tom. They looked down at themselves, and Ariana flung herself into Tom's waiting arms, and Tom pulled her close against his chest. Tom looked as though he wanted to storm down the beach after where Albus had gone, but a bright light formed a glowing archway that seemed to beckon to the newly-departed couple. Ariana took his hand firmly, tugging him back to her.

She shook her head at him, and Tom sagged and nodded in clear agreement. He held her hand as they walked into the glowing archway and disappeared beyond it… together.

Black acrid smoke rose from the corpse of Tom Riddle. It slithered around the body like a foul and loathsome yet living thing, seeping into the body as much as it slithered out.

Then body... jerked.

Tom's body sat up, his red, soulless, empty eyes glared into space, and then, they focused on Albus.

He _saw _him.

Pure, seething hate shot into him from afar as though he had been punched in the spine.

The red eyed Tom Riddle glared at Albus, screaming in rage.

_I see you, Albus._

_I will see you dead._

_I will see you suffer._

_I will see you pay._

_I will see you destroyed._

_Murderer._

_No matter how long it takes._

_No matter how many things you love, I will take them all from you._

_I will see you suffer._

_You will pay for taking the life of my precious Ariana._

"Tom" was storming towards him, his wand in his hand. He was trudging up the sand dune, oblivious to the sand shifting around him.

_Do you hear me, Albus?_

_Is there any guilt in your heart, or do you feel nothing?_

_I will destroy you. I will oppose everything that you have built until you are dead, Albus. I swear it._

"Tom?" Albus stared, his face frozen into a mask of disbelief.

_Tom is dead, Albus. Long live Lord Voldemort. _

_Do me the favour of dying here so that I may rest forever._

Tom lifted his wand. "_Avada Ke—"_

Albus Dumbledore disappeared, ripped away by the currents of time.

Lord Voldemort screamed in impotent fury.

* * *

At first, Albus thought he had been saved, but then he remembered that he had no time turner left. He had no eggs with which to power them. He had no sands with which to create another. He had no vessel with which to harvest them.

He was screaming along the turbulent timestreams, unable to escape. Time was forwards, backwards, and still all at the same time. With no anchor, he was tumbling arse over teakettle, with no beginning or ending in sight. His hands grasped at the time strands, but as soon he touched them, they slipped through his fingers like water.

His body was being bludgeoned by the streams. They would solidify just enough to slam into him, and then dissolve just as quickly. Tears were ripped into his robes and then mended. His hands were young, then they were old. His eyes were clear and then glazed with milky cataracts. He was but a babe, still suckling at his mother's soft breast. He was old and creaking.

A deafening scream of fury echoed around him.

Heat and flames surrounded him as sharp claws dug deeply into his battered body. His body twitched spasmodically, still being battered by hundreds, thousands, millions of time strands at once.

Red, orange, and gold feathers of radiant flame were suddenly all around him.

Searing pain sank into his shoulders and he was yanked out of the time stream by force and flung headlong out of it just as forcibly.

Albus went tumbling across his office in uncontrollable somersaults, rolling across the floor over and over until he smashed into his desk, sending papers, scrolls, quills, inkpots, books and various other items tumbling off in random directions.

Albus stared at the ornate brass perch that contained Fawkes. The phoenix was perched, head tucked under his wing, seemingly asleep.

Albus tried to rise to his feet and was tangled up immediately in his own robes. He tried to brace himself on the desk, but something was _off_. He was still on his knees. He moved his legs to attempt to stand up fully, but then realized he already _was _standing up fully.

What the?

He was no longer fitting in his robes.

He couldn't reach the top of his desk.

He shuffled awkwardly over to the mirror on the other side of the office. His hair and beard were both a little greyer and longer. Even his shaggy eyebrows were noticeably longer. His body, however, had somehow been shrunken to that of a prepubescent child— maybe six or seven at the most.

_Welcome back, Albus. _

_I've been waiting a very, very, long time for you to reappear._

Glowing red eyes stared back at him through the mirror, through the unmistakably reptilian face of Lord Voldemort.

Albus cried out in shocked surprise, flinging a spell at the mirror, causing it to melt into a silvery puddle on the floor.

He closed his eyes, but the red, glowing, serpentine eyes still stared back at him.

_Did you think I'd forgotten you, old man?_

_Hide away in your ivory tower. Sit upon your golden throne._

_I will still be waiting for you._

_I have forever, and you—_

_You will have nothing._

_I. Will. Crush. You._

_I will grind your bones to dust with my bare hands._

_I will not need magic to destroy you, Albus._

Albus clutched at his throbbing head, summoning his best Occlumency in a frantic effort to protect himself. A shadow moved.

Albus pointed his wand at Tom as he stood next to his bookcase.

Tom stared at him with hateful, red eyes.

Albus cast a series of spells in rapid succession.

Priceless books, an antique globe, Ministry paperwork, and assorted glassware all went flying.

Suddenly, Tom was there by the door, reaching for it as though to take his leave. Albus threw still more spells, sending a shattering spell mixed with a freezing charm. His office door was blown to smithereens, particles flying in all directions as shrapnel went tumbling down the spiral staircase, causing the startled gargoyle to flee for higher ground.

The portraits of past Hogwarts headmasters were all fleeing their frames for cover, diving into each other's portraits to avoid being destroyed. Frames fractured and cracked. Portraits went flying. Phineas Nigellus Black cursed fluently as he grabbed his favourite vase and fled.

Fawkes squawked as he lost half of his long, feathered tail to a poorly-aimed slicing curse. The phoenix hurriedly flew out of the window, somewhat imbalanced by the loss of half his tail. Jars of sherbet lemons and licorice snaps bounced across the floor to tumble down the stairs.

Albus panted, lowering his wand as it rained confetti and stone fragments.

Multiple sets of feet came pounding up the stairs. Flitwick, Sinistra, Vector, and Sprout came arrived at his office door panting heavily. Shortly after, McGonagall came panting and heaving behind them, looking like she had just run the entire length of Hogwarts to get there.

"Headmaster?" Professor Flitwick squeaked in question.

"Voldemort," Albus gasped, panting and wiping at his forehead with a trembling hand. "He was here." He was extremely pale and his smaller hands were shaking violently.

Minerva waved her wand, summoning her Patronus and sending it zinging out the window. "I'm informing the Aurors."

Some of the portraits were peeking cautiously back into their frames, still looking quite nervous.

Minerva extended her hand to the Headmaster, but the moment he clasped her hand and pulled himself up, the Deputy Headmistress let out a shocked gasp.

"Albus?" she whispered. "Dear Merlin, what _happened _to you?"

Albus stood shakily, blinking owlishly at her and then promptly collapsed on top of his own ridiculously oversized robes, his much smaller and younger body unable to handle the intense barrage of magical spells that were all fairly easily cast by adult wizards and witches.

Albus sobbed, "Ariana." The Headmaster groaned and held his head, rocking back and forth in the middle of his ruined office as the gathered professors exchanged worried looks.

Minerva held out her hand to the crumpled headmaster. "Come, Albus. Let's get you somewhere with less… furniture."

Albus nodded and allowed Minerva to pull him back up again.

Minerva traded worried looks with Flitwick and Sprout as they all descended the stairwell together, leaving the remains of the Headmaster's office to settle.

* * *

_Wednesday, May 24th, Waning Gibbous 95%_

Fawkes warbled disgruntledly as he poked his head through the window. He scrambled back onto the ledge and preened his chopped tail, giving a mournful sigh. A black phoenix and an earthen-toned phoenix poked their heads around the window, snuggling up to Fawkes as he preened himself back into some semblance of order.

The black phoenix chirped in dismay at Fawkes' dissected tail.

Fawkes sulked slightly, radiating his feelings on the matter quite clearly.

They waited together on the ledge for some signal only they knew.

Steps came up the stairs and Alastor Moody and someone they hadn't seen before followed behind.

"Start the traces, Kingsley," Moody barked. "I was having a glorious luncheon with my new wife."

The younger Auror's dark skin flushed slightly and he began meticulously waving his wand around.

Moody's demeanor changed as he looked around the room. He waved towards the window. "In with you lot," he ordered. "Make yourselves useful."

Kingsley boggled a little as two out of three phoenixes suddenly became people.

Moody grunted. "Kingsley, Hermione and Severus. Oh, and Fawkes. This is Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's with me today, trying to learn how not to die."

Severus and Hermione exchanged knowing glances. They'd been there and worn that robe quite some time ago.

"Hello," Hermione and Severus said together, nodding.

Kingsley's dark eyes widened slightly, his wand hesitating for a split second as he continued running the trace.

Moody rolled his eyes. "Oogle later, Kingsley. Today they are Aurors, just like us."

Kingsley tried to go back to what he was doing, and Severus and Hermione stifled amused smiles. Moody winked at them, jutting his chin at them significantly, clearly urging the pair to go explore.

Severus knelt down and pressed his hand flat to the floor as Hermione righted and repaired a few of the portraits and rehung others in order to clear the floor and inspect the room. "Hermione," he said.

Hermione turned. "Hm?"

Severus flicked his eyes downwards.

Hermione tilted her head. She came up and pressed her hand to the floor as well. She rubbed her fingers together.

"What is it?" Moody asked, immediately attuned to their heightened state of attention.

Fawkes fluttered down onto the desk and chirped.

"It's time sand," Severus informed the Auror.

"The _wrong _kind," Hermione said.

"How so?" Alastor asked interestedly.

"It's not from here," Severus said. "This sand belongs somewhere else. Or rather, _sometime _else."

"I see nothing," Moody said honestly.

Hermione extended her hand.

Alastor narrowed his eyes and placed his hand into hers. His eyes abruptly widened. "Oh!" He let go of her hand as his eyes glazed over. "That's way too much for mere mortals to see at once."

Hermione's lips twitched.

Fawkes warbled.

"Fawkes says he pulled Dumbledore out of the slipstreams," Severus said after a moment.

"How are those different from the time-streams you speak of?" Moody asked.

"Time-streams are set, fixed events that are extremely hard to change," Hermione said.

"Slipstreams are fluctuating and ever-changing like the current of a river," Severus said. "They travel very, very quickly, and they can change direction randomly at a moment's notice. Those are the most dangerous. A normal, if there is such a thing, time-turner taps into the time-stream to move you from one place to another. If you attempt to _change _something, it messes with the slipstreams, and that can cause serious repercussions."

"One day," Moody said. "I'm going to sit you two down and dump an entire interrogation into a Pensieve so I can remember it all later."

Hermione smiled. "We can be honest, Alastor. Severus and I just woke up this morning somehow knowing much more than we did yesterday. It was like something happened that locked it into our minds."

Moody seemed to realise something. "Does what happened here have something to do with your waking up more knowledgeable?"

Hermione and Severus gained a far-off look. "Yes, but we cannot say for what. We are not certain yet."

Moody scowled. "The barmy old bastard tampered with time."

Severus nodded. "Something happened that made Fawkes choose to intervene. That means something happened to directly affect a timeline he is present in. A phoenix can travel to any timeline he desires, but they can sort of home in on something that doesn't belong in their own. It's like… an itch."

"No Dark magic present, sir," Kingsley said after a while. "I ran three separate traces to confirm."

"Confirm it," Moody said, nodding at the Snapes.

Hermione and Severus took out the wands and waved them, staring at various different places in the room. After a few minutes, they nodded in agreement. "Confirmed."

Kingsley just stared at them.

Moody shook his head. "They have years ahead of you, son," he chuckled. "In a few years, you'll be where they are now, rolling your eyes at the stupidity of youth. Don't take it as an insult that I had them double-check. Consider it covering all of our arses in case a portal opens up above us and spits out a bloody Horntail dragon."

Shacklebolt flushed and nodded ruefully.

Hermione guided the rest of the fallen portraits up to the wall, restored the frames to their previous condition, and the ex-Headmasters and mistresses sneaked back into their respective frames, looking greatly relieved.

"Thank you, my Lady," a few of the portraits whispered.

Hermione bowed her head respectfully.

Moody frowned. "Can you… pick any of that stuff up and bottle it as evidence?"

Hermione and Severus exchanged looks.

"We can try, but, it would just look like an empty vial," Severus noted.

"Just the same, I'd rather we had something," Moody said. "Even if it means you have go around holding everyone's hand a few times."

Hermione shrugged, pulled out a vial, and did some creative sweeping with her wand. She put a cork into the vial and handed it to Moody.

Moody stared bemusedly into the "empty" vial.

"Kingsley," Moody said. "Go over there and take those tail feathers as evidence. If we can't get him on something, we can at least tag him for reckless endangerment of a rare magical avian."

Moody did some scans of his own and grunted. "Back to base, you lot. Meet you there for the debriefing."

Fawkes warbled.

Moody shook his head. "You too. You can gossip with Amortentia."

Fawkes let out a string of happy notes and landed on Alastor's shoulder awkwardly thanks to his newly-shortened tail.

"We should take this guy to a good magizoologist healer," Moody said. "Flying around with half a tail can't be easy or healthy."

Fawkes sulked, shoulders drooping in unhappy agreement.

"Right," Moody barked. "Begone with you."

Hermione and Severus shifted, zoomed out the window, and a few seconds later they heard the distinctive _**crack **_of a disapparate.

Alastor sighed. "Bloody show-offs."

Kingsley lifted his head curiously. "Sir?"

Alastor patted Kingsley on the shoulder. "Come on, back to base. We can give our reports and wait to hear back from the people at St Mungo's."

Kingsley nodded and headed out of the office with Moody trailing a bit behind him. Moody sighed. He couldn't wait to get back home to his wife and forget all about lunatic headmasters, time-traveling phoenixes, and the general insanity that seemed to be swirling 'round the whole, sodding mess.

Amortentia appeared on his shoulder suddenly and tapped her beak over his head a few times with a loud clunking noise.

"Ow! Dammit!" Moody cursed. "You're fine! You're not time-traveling!"

_Clunk. Clunk._

Alastor grabbed the phoenix and cuddled her mercilessly.

Amortentia warbled a string of cheerful notes, seemingly quite pleased with that outcome.

Moody sighed. Damn birds.

_**CLUNK!**_

Moody cuddled tighter.

Amortentia warbled happily, filling his heart with joy.

It was getting really hard to stay grumpy anymore.

Not that he wasn't trying.

Things just kept happening that cheered him up.

* * *

**A/N: ** Moody's transformation is a gift from his close bond with Hope. She licked his wounds (he's an Auror, he always has them, hazard of the job) in her peaceful state, and she gave him the "gift" of becoming a wolf on full moons to be with her. This is what happened to Hermione and Severus when Tuft cleaned their wounds after being attacked by the willow. The difference was, they were both already Animagi.


	45. June 1978 Meddling With Time

**A/N:** The reason Albus ended up at the crib of Hermione Granger and not Hermione Black is because it was the singular most vulnerable time in Hermione's time-stream. It was the only time it was a slipstream rather than a fixed event. It was also the only time he could change her destiny. The irony is, had he done NOTHING, it _would _have changed her destiny. Instead, he sealed her fate as a phoenix, and the entire event was solidified and made a fixed event in time. No one can alter it. The same, unfortunately, is the same for Severus and Remus. Those past events are now a protected Time-stream and can no longer be changed or avoided.

Equally ironic is the fact that now that he's done it, he'll keep doing it, time after time. He could only do it because he'd done it before. Paradox? Oh, yes.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose (my goddess of better adjectives) &amp; Dutchgirl01 (The Master of all things Dutch)

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 45**

**Meddling With Time**

"_Revenge is an act of passion. Vengeance of Justice." - Samuel Johnson_

* * *

_Thursday, June 1st, 1978 Waning Crescent 18%_

Severus stood awkwardly in the Muggle clothing they had purchased from the shops in London, his arms and chest itching like mad under the scratchy sweater he had ended up with. Hermione shifted uncomfortably next to him, appearing just as put out as him over having to wear Muggle clothing. Ever since they had been apprenticed, they had become accustomed to the highly functional and customary apprentice robes, and both apprentices were feeling as though they had shown up naked in front of the entire Great Hall with nothing but an avocado and a potato peeler.

"I think this is right, I mean," Hermione whispered. She sighed in frustration. "This is _so _uncomfortable. I haven't had to dress like this in…"

"Ever?" Severus grunted.

"Feels that way," Hermione sighed. She looked down at the gaudy floral prints and tugged on the bright cadmium orange vest top. "Even my other sense of self never wore anything like this."

Severus looked his wife over. "I feel like I need to wrap you up in a very large cloak and conceal your ankles." He frowned.

Hermione stared at Severus with a resigned look. She adjusted her long skirt to cover her ankles and glared at him.

Severus stared upward. "I do not wish my Lady wife to appear unseemly in public."

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "Says the man wearing a leather jacket, an obnoxiously bright silver belt buckle, tight, shiny pants, and pointed boots."

Severus coughed. "I happen to be _quite _seemly."

"Oh, you're seeming like something, love, I'll grant you that," Hermione chuckled.

"Ah, Lord and Lady Snape," a man greeted from the adjoining door. "I'm Dr McKinley. I was told by my old friend, Poppy Pomfrey, that I should be expecting you."

Severus and Hermione nodded politely in greeting. "Very pleased to meet you, Dr McKinley."

"It's Michael, please," the doctor said with a chuckle.

"Severus."

"Hermione."

Michael smiled. He gestured for them to follow him to his office.

After shutting the door behind them, Michael sighed. "I have confirmed that Tobias Snape has been under the influence of a very nasty piece of spellwork," he said. "Oh, you're working out how I can be a doctor and a medi-wizard? I am here under the auspices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I trained under Poppy when I was your age as her apprentice. I joined the Aurors to help patch them back together, and then they recruited me to keep an eye out in the Muggle areas for magical fugitives trying to hide out amongst the Muggles. I went to a Muggle medical school for my cover, so I'm a bit of a fluke."

"I think that is quite amazing," Hermione said with clear approval.

Severus nodded in agreement.

"I did as requested," Michael explained. "It's buried very deep, which explains why my initial rather cursory scans did not detect it when he was first incarcerated. I'm not even positive there is a standard scan that would have picked this up. This is the sort of thing we see in people who have had their memories wiped and new memories added, erased, and re-added over a series of years."

"Was he a wizard before this injury?" Michael inquired.

Severus shook his head. "He is Muggle."

Michael's eyes widened. "That makes his case even more frightening, then. He's going to need extensive magical healing done in order to rebuild the pathways of his normal personality and memory. Unfortunately, there is a very good chance that too much time has passed since the spell was originally cast on him. Tobias Snape never be able to return to the man he originally was."

Severus stared out the open window to the blue sky beyond. "It is more than I ever believed possible for him," he confessed. "I grew up believing him to be a cruel drunkard of a man by his own choice and felt my mother to be terribly sentimental about him for no discernable reason."

Dr McKinley shook his head. "This was a very sinister sort of curse, Severus. It is the sort of thing that comes from either dark intent or a horrible botch in reverse intent— the kind of thing we see in patients that were hit with one spell, but the actual effect was the total opposite of the spells' intent. Such spells are even harder to reverse because the effects were not due to the normal progression of a spell. Without knowing the type of spell that was originally cast, we could be looking at months of reverse tracing, and we'll have to keep him completely sedated for his own safety due to how violent he is in his current state."

"_Pax Vobis_," Hermione said, her eyes filled with fire. She blinked it away as she turned towards the doctor.

"The pacification spell?" Michael asked with a blink. "Are you quite certain?"

Severus nodded. "We spent hours reviewing a cache of unexpected memories in a Pensieve with Aurors Shattenjäger and Moody under the supervision of Amelia Bones and under the witness of a handful of Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries. It is under the Wizengamot's approval that we are even allowed to… make an attempt at fixing this grave wrong."

Michael's eyes widened significantly. "I do not envy you any business under the scrutiny of the Wizengamot," he confessed. "The addition of the Department of Mysteries, however, bodes ill of the vastness of what has been affecting Mr Snape."

Michael straightened his shirt by pulling it down with a sharp tug. Very well. I will complete the transfer paperwork by this afternoon. Tobias will then be immediately transferred to St Mungo's under strict sedation. I can only hope that there is hope of reversal after such a extended time under the spell's effects."

Severus nodded grimly. "Thank you, D— Michael."

Dr McKinley smiled. "It is no trouble, Lord Snape. After seeing the effects with my very own eyes, I believe our assistance is long overdue."

Hermione and Severus shook his hand and seemed to let out a combined sigh of relief. "Thank you."

* * *

After being poked, prodded, questioned, and generally oogled at like the second coming of Merlin, Hermione and Severus warbled together in somewhat drained tolerance. Master Barberry sat nearby to insure that nothing inappropriate was inflicted on either of his apprentices, but the Unspeakables went over the two human phoenixes with barely contained excitement.

Amelia Bones seemed both curious and grim over the unravelling of the entire series of events. She had spoken at considerable length in front of the Wizengamot to seek permission for the late intervention on behalf of Mr Tobias Snape, due to the circumstances of a vile magical attack on an innocent Muggle man. While nothing could be done to change the events of the past, and both Hermione and Severus were adamant that they were, in fact, solidified in the time-stream, the only thing that could be done at this point was an attempted rectification after the fact.

The time-stream memories were something that they had had never had access to before, and it took Amelia's stern supervision to keep the Unspeakables from requesting certain other time "memories" to inspect that had nothing to do with the current drama being caused by one meddlesome old Wizard with a highly questionable mental status.

Due to their unique circumstances, Hermione and Severus were both granted exceptions to the no time-travel rule, seeing as they couldn't prevent a phoenix from doing what phoenixes did naturally, and after confirming that the pair were, in fact, phoenixes, that motion didn't take long at all to approve. All that Amelia asked of them, however, was that if they did find themselves traveling the slipstreams to deal with interlopers in the way that Fawkes recently had, to come to her afterwards with a detailed report of their intervention. They may have a free pass to do what came naturally to them, but it was still against the law for the average magical citizen to do so.

All of this eventually lead to the rather obvious need to question one Albus Dumbledore— the man who had inadvertently sealed at least three distinct moments in time, permanently fixing certain events that should never have happened in the first place: turning both Hermione and Severus into phoenixes and causing the attack on little Remus Lupin by Fenrir Greyback.

There was also the matter of the death of his sister, the mysterious disappearance of the Pettigrew family, and the creation of Voldemort, but by the time they got to that matter, somehow they seemed almost moot.

There were no currently set laws that dealt with evidence given via a time-stream over any other typically-obtained memory. They couldn't arrest him for something they couldn't confirm using the normal tried and true methods, so it all came down to arranging for a meeting with Albus Dumbledore after he was evaluated and treated at St Mungo's.

That was going to be difficult, considering he was intensive care due to his body parts having mismatched ages and proportions as well as evidence of what the Muggles would have described as a form of dementia.

Hermione squawked in surprise as one of the Unspeakables tugged on her long tail.

Severus nailed the rude wizard squarely between the eyes with his beak, fixing the man with a fixed stare as black flames rimmed his eyes.

"Amazing," the wizard mumbled to himself, completely oblivious. "Absolutely amazing."

Master Barberry shook his head. "I think that is _quite _enough prodding," he admonished. "They have both been more than tolerant of your questions and examinations until now."

"Yes, yes," the wizard agreed. "So sorry. It's just all so very _fascinating_!"

Hermione flew off to examine a shelf of time-turners, peering at them accusingly as though they were an affront to time. Severus warbled, preening her head. When Hermione seemed satisfied that none of the time-turners had phoenix eggs attached to them, she chirped in satisfaction.

Severus stared into the large hourglass in the center of the room with sudden interest. Every so often the hourglass would turn by itself, and the sand would run down the other direction.

He stared.

He stared again.

Something wasn't… _THERE_!

Severus suddenly dove into the hourglass, seemingly phasing through the glass as though it wasn't even there, diving deep into the grains of sand. There was series of flops, squawks, and rustles before Severus popped back out of the hourglass with a small golden pellet in his beak, which he swallowed almost immediately.

Hermione flew over and landed next to him at once, preening him with a concerned warble. Severus looked very proud of himself, holding his head high to permit her loving ministrations.

The nearby Unspeakable looked even more curious now. "I think I just missed something highly significant."

Master Barberry steepled his hands together. "No, I think we just witnessed something _spectacular_."

Severus let out a joyous song, which Hermione echoed as she laid her head closely against Severus' feathered breast, as if listening for something. Suddenly the both of them poofed out their feathers and entwined their necks together happily.

Gilford smiled. Things were looking extremely good for the newest Snape Phoenixes. Now, if they could just get the matters with Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the Deathly Hallows sorted and taken care of.

No pressure at all, ay?

* * *

_Monday, June 5th, 1978. New Moon 1%_

Sirius sulked as he waited outside the testing facility. He placed his head down on his paws and whuffed with discontent. His bloody talented sister and her husband were sitting their N.E.W.T.s before the rest of Hogwarts to get that "official nastiness out of the way." Sirius had been invited to, but he knew he was not the same studious apprentice-quality student as his sister or Severus, and the last thing he wanted to do was botch his N.E.W.T.s and make it impossible to be an official Auror after graduation. He would take the extra few weeks to cram to save himself the humiliation of getting anything less than O's.

There were quite a few people testing out in the chambers on this particular day. Many of them were potential Aurors, some who wished to be judged worthy of being granted apprenticeships, and others were Animagi who wanted to join the Auror Animagus Rescue Teams.

As a child, maybe no more than seven, bounced out of the chambers and ran to his eager parents, Sirius lifted his head curiously. Now _that _was young!

It was so exceedingly rare to see budding magical talent in the young. Most young bodies couldn't sustain magic, and it was considered highly dangerous to encourage it. However, this lad was obviously treaded on genius. While obviously young, he sounded a lot like Hermione, spewing out a bunch of the questions he had been required to answer to his parents and then recited what his answers had been.

A man in long, dark green robes came up to the parents with a scroll of results.

"Master Thornfield!" the boy exclaimed. "Did I make it! Will I be able to study with you?"

The kindly-looking man, stroked his beard and smiled down at the lad. "You will indeed, Janus. Are you ready to pursue a lifelong obsession with healing?"

The boy bounced excitedly on his heels. "I am, Master!"

Master Thornfield looked down at him fondly, placing his hand on his young apprentice's head. "Follow me, my friends. We can discuss the details at my estate, where I will explain what to expect, what I expect, and what you can expect of me. All of the boring stuff, yes?"

The boy looked utterly excited despite himself. The parents seemed so very proud.

Sirius watched them leave. The boy, Janus, held his Master's hand tightly. He couldn't help but smile at such a sight. That was the way it was supposed to be. He wondered why the Headmaster had been so resistant to the idea of apprenticeships at Hogwarts when they seemed like the kind of thing any child or parents would be excited to be in. All he had to do is focus on the close relationship he had developed while training with Moody to understand what a lifetime of such a relationship could do for a young wizard.

Sirius sighed. He had a really good future ahead of him too. So why was _**he **_complaining? He really was pathetic. He sighed again, feeling both sorry for himself and annoyed with himself at the same time.

Suddenly, the doors opened and the happiest-looking black cocker spaniel came zooming out of the doors. The glossy black curls on her ears shimmered like diamonds in the sun. She had an almost reddish-brown cast to her muzzle and small spots above her eyes. A patch of curly reddish-brown emblazoned her chest, and a lighter golden brown made each leg look like she was sporting boots. Her eyes— oh her eyes— were a deep, warm brown.

The female cocker spaniel skidded to a halt next to an Auror that Sirius hadn't even noticed until that very moment. The female Auror splayed out her hand in silent signal, and the cocker lay down on her stomach without a sound. Another signal had her fetching a scroll from the nearby desk and bringing it back. Silently, without a world being said, she signalled again, and the cocker disappeared around the corner. A few seconds later, she was driving a harried-looking scribe down the hall, nipping at his rump to keep the young man moving.

As the frustrated scribe sputtered, the Auror smiled down at the cocker spaniel and signalled again.

The dog stood up as radiant young witch with curly black hair. Her skin was a golden, shining brown, and her eyes were the same warm brown she had as a dog.

"_We hebben nu een getuige_," the Auror said with a smile. "_Uitstekend werk, mijn vriendin. Ben je er klaar voor om mijn partner te worden?_"

"_Ik ben er klaar voor,"_ the canine Animagus answered, her head held high. "_Ik zal mijn uiterste best doen om je trots op mij te laten zijn._"

"_Ik ben al trots op je Evelyn,"_ the Auror laughed and handed her a bright orange collar.

Evelyn clicked the orange collar around her neck where it glowed softly and then disappeared.

"Auror Van der Velden!" the scribe exclaimed. "I don't know Dutch!"

Evelyn grinned broadly as her new partner did the same.

"I, Bianca Van der Velden, do accept Evelyn Groot as my partner," she intoned officially in heavily-accented English.

"_En ik accepteer,"_ Evelyn said with clear amusement.

The scribe looked visibly frustrated.

"She accepted," Bianca said with a mischievous smile.

"_Zullen we nog een grapje met hem uithalen, Evelyn?_" Bianca said to her partner with a devilish wink.

Suddenly, there was a black cocker spaniel and a large black Newfoundland with bright orange collars standing around the scribe. They woofed together joyfully and proceeded to chase the yelping young scribe down the hallway and down the adjoining corridors.

Sirius Black had stars in his eyes. He was in _love_.

* * *

James Potter had his face buried deep in a rather large bowl of chicken soup, so much so that Regulus pulled his head up and asked James if he was attempting to drown himself in carrots and broth.

"Seriously, mate," Regulus scolded. "I know it's homemade, but do you have to be such a noisy eater? People are _staring_."

" —etthem," James burbled blissfully.

Regulus sighed, averting his eyes, taking almost dainty sips in comparison to James. Ever since the new café had opened, the Sunrise Kettle, everyone made a bee-line to it on Hogsmeade weekends. The front signage showed a shiny copper cauldron with the rays of a rising sun shining over it. The cauldron hung on a oak branch wand, giving the place a very rustic look.

The place was already popular and known for its array of daily homemade soups, stews, and porridges as well as its fresh baked breads. The smell alone attracted people by the droves, including the other shop keepers. The proprietor, a smiling witch who everyone called Dawn (because they couldn't remember her real name and it just stuck) greeted everyone with a wide smile that rivaled the sunrise of her establishment's logo.

It was well known that she bartered, and she had quite a bit of Rosmerta's special-recipe butterbeer in exchange for being able to serve some of her soups. Honeydukes allowed her to sell their honey sticks for the bread, and Dawn apparently whipped her own butter from fresh cream, mixing the honey in to make a sunny honey butter that people almost ate straight out of the bowl instead of slathering it on their bread.

Hogsmeade seemed very happy to have a new place to eat that wasn't known to attract the more seedy crowd that the Hog's Head Tavern was known for. Better yet, her business attracted hungry folks that wanted to shop afterwards, and if they wanted to get a drink or candy, everything was conveniently located.

Dawn had a greater sooty owl that perched on the rafters watching over the establishment. Ever so often, she was hand him a bundle to deliver lunch to the nearby shopkeepers who couldn't leave their shops. The owl would stare at people with it's heart-shaped facial disc and hoot softly. If a guest got too rowdy, however, he would let out a piercing, bomb-whistle shriek and dive for their head, driving them out, usually throwing money as they fled to keep her guard owl from maiming them for life.

Most of the guests seemed to think anyone who caused trouble at the Sunrise Kettle deserved to be owled straight to the face, and so no one ever complained. The greater sooty owl, named Vesper, seemed to run an owl convention in the rafters, and many people who had owls found find their owls conversing with Vesper while they ate. Dawn, ever the practical sort, gave each owl's owner a coupon for a discount on their current meal if their owl participated in delivery of the noon-hour lunch deliveries to take the meal baskets to the nearby shop keepers. She had small, handmade baskets that held a bowl of soup, a sandwich, condiments, a couple biscuits, and a napkin— the perfect size for an owl to carry without issue. The baskets were returned after each patron finished their meal, often with a tip in thanks for the timely delivery.

The Sunrise Kettle was doing very well. There was no doubt about that at all.

Occasionally, Ogden would arrive, carrying a huge barrel of butterbeer. People would scramble as the wobbly phoenix dropped off the latest delivery. Dawn would laugh, scoop him up and cuddle him, causing him to warble happily. She always had a stash of gooseberries in her kitchen and kept the even more highly-coveted half-fermented ones just for him. Ogden sang, somewhat drunkenly in his blissful happiness, took the offering, and flew back to Rosmerta, narrowly missing the window frame on the way out. All of the owls stared at his departure, looking somewhat appalled at the intoxicated phoenix.

"That phoenix is… special," Sirius commented, downing his entire bowl of soup in one go.

"It's not his fault he discovered Ogden's Firewhisky as an impressionable young chick," Regulus commented with a slight frown.

"Rosmerta says he's a really devoted bird," James said, finally coming up for air after having practically licked his soup bowl clean with his face as well as his tongue.

Regulus stared at James like he was an abomination to every bit of courtesy and manners in the world. "I swear all you do is insult my Lady mother with your every breath."

James looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry, mate. This soup is really good."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "You don't have to _wear _it, James."

"I would never!" James said adamantly. "Waste of glorious ambrosia."

Sirius reached over, borrowing one of Severus' patented moves, and slapped his mate upside the head.

"Do you think Lily is finished with using us for slave labour bringing in all those crates of Merlin-only-knows-what for her shop?" James asked, rubbing his head.

"I hope so," Regulus complained. "Treacle refuses to do any more chasing of random pests until the store is officially open."

"She's even using _your _familiar?" Sirius sputtered.

"She'll use anyone with eyes and a functional body at this point," Regulus told his brother. "She's a practical slave-driver, that witch."

"Severus and Hermione brought in the heaviest stuff because Lily entirely forgot about the levitation spell," James chuckled. "She was thinking like a Muggle, expecting that it was going to take her _days_. Those two just flew them in as a long chain of boxes, one after another. It was hilarious. You should have seen Lily's face when she remembered about the levitation charm. She was _so _embarrassed."

"I'm sure you were right there to offer appropriate comfort," Sirius quipped, winking at him.

"Well, yeah," James said, puffing up. "What do you take me for?"

"A total cad," Regulus informed him, straight-faced.

James pouted. "Come on, mate. I'm not _that _bad."

"Any more," Sirius chuckled, ruffling him further.

James sulked.

"James, I heard your parents saved the day with Lily's business," Regulus commented, changing the subject.

James became serious. "Yeah, that entire approval process with Gringott's was a complete farce. The goblin who supposedly approved it didn't even remember doing it. You know what _that _says."

Regulus and Sirius frowned together. "One more ploy from our meddlesome old friend with the beard."

James nodded. "My parents backed the loan. They ended up talking to Lily and her friends for the whole evening. Mother even brought out the family picture albums."

Sirius' eyes widened. "The day my mother willingly brings out the family picture albums for anyone other than Severus Snape is the day I change my name to Stubby Boardman and cross the pond to become a California beach bum."

Regulus shook his head. "Don't say stuff like that, brother. You'll end up _having _to do it."

Sirius slumped. "It shall not be stricken in stone. It shall not be stricken in stone." He seemed to count how many times he said it. "It shall _not_ be stricken in stone."

James laughed. "Falling back to that old saying to hopefully ward off Fate taking you seriously?"

Sirius sighed. "This is _my _life. I can't be too careful. This is the dog who almost ended up getting married to a gal who didn't deserve to find out her firstborn child was going to come out as some random mythical creature in _that _way."

"A Cerberus?" Regulus suggested, grinning.

"Gods, no," Sirius moaned. "Please, _no_."

"Azeban?" James suggested.

"I do _not _need a mythological trickster spirit dog as my first-born!" Sirius moaned, burying his head in his hands.

"Freybug?" Regulus asked innocently.

Sirius groaned. "I do _not _need a monstrous black dog the size of a calf running around terrorizing my life."

"A Hellhound then?" James offered.

Sirius glared at him. "Seriously, mate. Do you want me to be single _forever_?"

Regulus shrugged. "Just long enough for sis and Severus to take care of that wonderful aspect of the Black family."

Sirius seemed relieved for a moment before his eyes bulged in horrified realization. "Wait, they formed their _own _Lineage… does that mean… oh gods. Regulus. You have to get married and have a nice magical polar bear or something."

Regulus glared at Sirius. "I will _not _hurry along my courtship just so you can be safe in knowing the magical firstborn of the generation won't be coming from _you_!"

Sirius looked utterly pathetic. "_Please_, brother!"

Regulus crossed his arms in front of him and scowled, looking very much like the Snape side of the family.

Sirius shrank back in somewhat of a conditioned response. "Whatever happened to my baby brother who couldn't do enough to make me happy?" Sirius complained, pouting.

Regulus raised a brow. "Sirius, the Cowardly Bloodhound?"

Sirius groaned. "I just want a nice, normal, magical family."

James scratched his head in bemusement and patted Sirius comfortingly on the back. "Trust me, mate. There is no such thing as a _normal _magical family."

"I'm going to buy a Muggle motorcycle and ride off into the sunset," Sirius whinged dolefully.

Regulus shook his head. "You seem to forget that our Lord father can find you _anywhere_, brother," he reminded his brother. "And our sister and brother-in-law can find you anywhere in _time_."

Sirius thunked his head down to the wooden table. "It's so not fair. Why couldn't I get the family gift of being able to hide from anything and anyone instead of always knowing which direction is bloody north?"

James smiled with sudden insight. "That would be your child."

Sirius' eyes widened. "That's it. I'm becoming a priest."

Regulus snorted. He leaned in close and whispered, "Black cocker spaniel Animagus."

Sirius's pupils swallowed his grey eyes, and he began to pant.

Regulus smiled. "Not going to happen, brother. You might as well inform our Lord father that you're interested in someone so he can prepare for the possibility. You wouldn't want to end up married without some sort of warning, hrm?"

James rubbed the beginnings of stubble around his face. "Does this little lucky pooch even know he's interested?"

Regulus leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers the way Orion so often did. He jutted his chin at a spot just beyond James' right shoulder..

James turned around to see one black cocker spaniel Animagus frozen in place, her nose in the air and twitching madly as she sniffed Sirius over. Her brown eyes were wide in pure fascination.

"She does _now_," Regulus said with a sly smile.

* * *

_Sunday, June 18th, 1978 Waxing Gibbous 92%_

Hermione warbled a happy song from her perch on Minerva's flower box. Fawkes sang with her, seemingly sharing in her high spirits. Severus coughed up a slightly larger golden pellet, and the trio of phoenixes stared at it adoringly. It pulsed with a steady thrum like a heartbeat. The colour was turning from a dark, almost coppery gold to a brighter and shinier pure gold. Every so often Severus would cough it up from the special, protective pouch inside his body, inspecting it, fanning it with his wings to encourage the time sands to gather on it in just the right way, singing to it, and then swallowing it again for another session of incubation.

This particular egg had the undivided attention of every single phoenix in attendance. Zabulon flew in with a happy warble and flapped his wings over the growing egg, showering it with his own time-sands. He bobbed his head and sang a happy song to it. Teacup, Dandy, and Jean sang along with Hermione, sharing in the celebration. Even Fawkes seemed interested, assisting Severus with the rotating of his very first phoenix egg. They rained down their affection to the growing egg as Severus turned it with his beak to get an even coating of time sand. Once it had soaked in, he swallowed the egg again, allowing it to settle snugly in his inner incubation pouch.

Each phoenix took turns putting their heads to his breast, listening closely. They warbled and chirped happily as Severus looked more and more content with how things were going.

Eventually, the egg would mature in size and would be appropriately anchored into the current time. Then, it would be Hermione's turn to bestow her own gifts upon it. Once that was done, the pair of them could sit the egg in a proper nest and hatch their first phoenix chick into the world. The chick would come out into the world surrounded by two attentive parents and a friendly flock to help nurture it. But, for now, the egg was tiny and would take some time to grow in size and mature to where it needed to be, so it would remain in his protective care until the time came when he could leave it unattended in a nest to await the loving care of a female phoenix that was both agreeable to him and his choice of living arrangements.

Fortunately, Severus didn't have to go very far to find one of _those_.

Severus curled his neck around his mate's neck and warbled warmly.

* * *

Minerva looked up at the sudden surge in happy phoenix sounds out on her balcony and smiled, feeling the happiness fill her heart despite the sombre task that lay before her.

The half-destroyed notebooks of Albus Dumbledore were scattered in front of her. Gilford entered with tea, setting it carefully down beside her, and the nodded in distracted thanks. The two of them had been going over them extensively, and copies of them all, once they had been repaired enough to be readable, were sent off to Head Healer Cornwall at St. Mungo's and Auror Alastor Moody at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement .

The notebooks started out very clinical— times, dates, and almost scientific notation on cause and effect results. Albus Dumbledore had very methodically set out to create a magical utopia of sorts and seemed to think that was, in fact, what he was destined to do. The later notebooks were less so, containing rambling commentary, options, and even justifications. It seemed that the more Albus had traveled in time, the less sense he made, or, rather, the less stable the notations were.

They made magical notation on everything with a layered special ink designed for that purpose, preserving the original notebook but allowing those who read it to see what they wrote and observed. That, in turn, reflected in the copies they made, and any comments made back to them appeared in synchronization.

Giving their apprentices time off to celebrate their passing their N.E.W.T.s with flying colours, she and Barberry were taking over with the official business. Both she and Gilford had agreed that, after learning what they had on the why and how Hermione, Severus, Remus, and even Argus and Tobias Snape had been forever altered through blatant time meddling on Dumbledore's part, _all _of them deserved a little time off from the current crisis. While they were all adults in the eyes of the Wizarding world and technically graduated, Minerva couldn't help but think that they had been prematurely thrust into certain things far sooner than would have been asked of any relatively normal apprentice. Chief amongst those things was being used and abused by a very unstable Headmaster.

Despite having sat their N.E.W.T.s and passed as well as being formally graduated, the trio was still under her paw and Gilford's wing as their apprentices, and that kept them close. The trio didn't seem to mind at all, as their routine barely changed as they switched from student and assistant professors to apprentice professors in their own right. Once the horrible business with Albus was taken care of, the other masters would be able to gather and pin the trio and the other apprentices formally, inducting them into their well-deserved mastery.

Minerva sighed deeply and began to flip through the notebooks again.

* * *

_Gellert has made friends with a very unique creature: a phoenix. It's a bright red and orange bird with a long, impressive tail. When it sings, you feel whatever emotion it seems to want you to feel. The creature also seems able to move things far heavier than its size would appear to allow. When I came by, it flew away, apparently startled by my presence. _

_I'm going to have to be more careful as so to observe it more closely. _

* * *

_The phoenix is back. Gellert says it's name— his name— is Fawkes. _

_I asked him why he would name a bird such a thing, and he said he didn't._

_I wanted to ask him how he knew the bird's name, but I decided to leave it be. Gellert always gets cranky when I ask questions about things that are so obvious to him. _

_The limitation on the time-turner seems to be approximately five hours back. I've been using it to spend time with Gellert and still get my research completed at the same time. He doesn't suspect. I have a special place in which to use the turner so I never run into someone else when I go back in time. _

_Five hours is not enough. I must find a way to break that limitation._

_I __**will **__find it._

_I will find a way to make it so Ariana was never attacked by those foul Muggle bullies. That will fix __**everything**__. If she was never attacked, father would never have been sent to Azkaban. If father remained free, I would not have all this responsibility thrust upon me. Ariana would have been able to control her magic. I would not have her coming to me for everything because mother would still be alive._

_I love her dearly, but I'm rather tired of her constant neediness. _

* * *

_Fawkes is up to something. Gellert is seemingly happy for him. When they hear my footsteps, the bird flies off, and Gellert seems annoyed with me. Why he pays so much attention to a bloody bird is beyond me. They are fascinating, yes, but what could be so very interesting that it makes Gellert put aside his plans with me to find the Hallows? We must become the Masters of Death to but things right. Between that and being the master of time, I will fix what happened to Ariana. If Ariana was well, Gellert and I could— _

_I __**will **_ _find a way._

* * *

_I disillusioned myself and watched Gellert come in to feed his avian friend. He feeds him odd fruits he gets from the market. I had thought he bought them for himself, but I see they were meant for the bird._

_Today, however, the bird coughed up a small golden ball, and allowed Gellert to examine it. Gellert stroked it fondly, telling Fawkes he was such a marvelous creature. _

_He took the small gold ball and opened up this cleverly hidden panel in the bookshelf. Fawkes took the ball in his beak and placed it inside. There was a … nest? He turned the balls around with his beak, fanning his wings over them, and then let Gellert close the door over them._

"_One day, my feathered friend, you'll find the one, Fawkes," Gellert cooed at him. "Thank you for trusting me to help you."_

_The bird warbled at him with this surge of approval I could feel in my chest. _

_A __**bird **__had distracted Gellert from our plan._

* * *

_I saw them sleeping together. That bird and Gellert._

_Whenever I am not around, the bird relaxes._

_Today, there was this strange, almost purple fire that was coming off the bird. It was spreading over to Gellert, and he pulled the bird closer to him with a deep sigh of profound relief. _

_I made a noise like I was coming up the stairs, and the bird immediately flew off. _

_Gellert woke and gave me this __**look **__as the Gellert I knew well and felt so attuned with slid back into place. _

_Good. Now, perhaps, we can get our research done._

* * *

_I rigged a very clever chomping book to "help" Fawkes shed two of his tail feathers. The bird didn't even suspect me as I wasn't even in the room at the time. I'm taking the feathers to Ollivander. I've heard he has the fabled Elder Wand and wants a phoenix feather more than anything in the world. I'll give him two for the wand. With the Elder Wand in our possession, Gellert will stop having these silly moments when he prefers to cuddle with birds instead of focus on our glorious plans._

* * *

_Tonight was supposed to be special. It was the day we made the pact for our plans to break the Statute of Secrecy and put Wizards in the place of power where they rightfully belong._

_If we had been in power, my Ariana would never have been attacked. My father would not have been put in prison for properly punishing those foul Muggle hooligans!_

_Just as things were starting to feel as they should, that troublesome bird landed on the windowsill and interrupted yet another perfect moment._

_I'm going to have to __**do **__something about that bloody interfering bird._

* * *

_There is another phoenix starting to hang around. She doesn't trust anyone but Fawkes, but because Fawkes trusts Gellert, she has started to come closer. She accepted a gooseberry from Gellert's fingers, and I know that soon I'll have to wrestle him away from __**two **__of the bloody birds to get him to focus on our plans._

_Whenever she comes, Gellert opens up that panel in the bookcase using the switch he has hidden behind another book. She hops in and sets herself on fire, sitting on the nest, turning the eggs, and then she leaves the moment she thinks she hears something._

_Paranoid bird._

_Why would I want her eggs? _

* * *

"_There is more to life than power and revenge, Albus."_

_What is that supposed to mean? He of all people knows how terribly important our quest is! He just sits up in his room these days, watching the sunrise and sunset like some barmy guru on a mountaintop. _

_**Damn **__Gellert!_

_He's... __**changed**__._

_He actually helped some Muggle woman with a large sack of groceries._

_What is __**wrong **__with him?_

_The two birds were sitting on him this time. Those purple flames! That is what has been changing my Gellert into some soft-headed, bleeding-hearted fool!_

_I made a loud noise again, badly startling the two phoenixes and causing them to flee out the window._

_Gellert woke, his face changing from peace to the hard scowl that meant he was back._ _**Finally!**_

* * *

_I rigged the window sill to send a sharp jolt through whatever might land upon it._

_Stunned an entire flock of pigeons._

_Damnable, pestilential birds._

* * *

_Stunned an owl delivering the morning post._

_It fell three stories to the ground and died._

_I collected the mail and buried it in the backyard._

* * *

_Found a dead tomcat at the base of the house._

_At least it won't be waking us up anymore yowling for love._

_If I can't have the one I want, then a lowly alley cat can't either._

_Buried the mangy thing next to the owl._

* * *

_Bloody birds just flew right over the windowsill and landed on Gellert's stomach as he lay asleep with a book on his face._

_The female sang sweetly to him as he opened the hatch for her to hop onto the nest. The eggs are getting large now, perhaps the size of cricket ball. I can see them glowing in the dark cavity. _

"_They are almost ready to hatch," Gellert cooed over them like some love-sick sap. "I'll construct you a larger nest that you can share and bring your little ones into the world. I'll start when you are ready, my friends."_

_Fawkes and the female warbled their approval, singing to their glowing eggs. _

_What is so special about a nest of eggs that has Gellert so enthralled? Once they hatch, will he turn back to continue the work we need to do? Or will there a nest full of obnoxious chicks to demand his attention and care?_

* * *

_I crafted the __**perfect **__fake egg._

_It's just the right size. It thrums with the same pulse of magic by imitating the real eggs around it. I slipped it into the nest and took the largest egg out to closely examine it. There are thirty-some eggs in that nest. They aren't going to miss one, especially when all of them seem to be there._

* * *

_I have found the perfect solution to my time-turner problem. These eggs act like living batteries! Attach a time-turner to them, and I can go back further than I ever have and get back safely. This is perfect! _

* * *

_Eggs need to be of a certain size to have enough power for the return trip. _

_Arrived two days prior to where, or rather when, I should have been and had to hide out in a rented tavern room until I caught up to myself._

_Maximum time allowed for a snitch-sized egg is one week._

_Maximum time allowed for a cricket ball sized egg seems to be one month._

_Still not enough. Need to find a way to somehow link multiple eggs together._

* * *

_Tweaked the turner by filling the glass with time-sand gathered while going back in time the regular way._

_Time allowed has increased a hundredfold. Results somewhat unstable. Need a way to stabilise it._

_Always coming back to this point in time as my anchor. No time has passed for Gellert, but I'm so close to the results I want!_

* * *

_I over-calculated my time back. It drained the egg completely and I arrived a day after I left. I will have to find a way to channel the energy of the eggs together to prevent this from happening again._

* * *

_I have tinkered successfully once more. The decoy egg now channels the nest of power together into something I can use. I've managed to travel back three years and leave myself a perfect plan to harness and research the eggs even faster._

_I returned back knowing so much more than before!_

_This is going to work._

* * *

_**No! No!**_ _This __**isn't **__what was supposed to happen!_

_I forgot to disillusion myself this time. I was just so very tired. I startled the phoenixes, and the female landed on the windowsill. _

_She screamed in pain and burst into flames. She fell._

_Fawkes went screaming after her, and Gellert went to climb out the window to summon his broom to his hand. _

_The window shocked him too and he fell!_

_I rushed to look out the window and it jolted me, flinging me back._

_When I woke up, everything was so very quiet._

_I quickly dismantled the spells on the window and ran out, fearing what I might find._

_Gellert was staring fixedly up at the sky. His eyes were open, but there was blood, so much blood._

_Lights were coming on in the nearby houses. I had to leave him. I cast a few spells to stop the worst of the bleeding. _

_I had to preserve the eggs. I could use them to come back to the right time and help him. No, better yet, I would help Ariana and then all of this would be moot anyway. Everything would be perfect._

_I took all the eggs and gathered them, nest and all, and placed them in a sealed box and apparated out to the safe house I had been using when conducting my adventures in time-travelling._

* * *

_Something is very __**wrong **__with Gellert. He was talking with my idiot of a younger brother when I came home. He started screaming at me that to harm a phoenix was a sin! A despicable crime against nature itself! He said that he knew what I was up to, and he would see me pay._

_But then, he clutched at his head in pain, and when he looked at me again, he asked if I wanted to go out for a coffee._

_He hasn't said anything about it since._

* * *

_Aberforth, the fool, wants to know what I'm up to thanks to witnessing Gellert's outburst. He argues with me constantly asking if I care about Ariana._

_Of course I care!_

_This is __**all **__for her!_

_Fool._

_I bespelled him so he'd pay more attention to his damned goats instead of sticking his overlong nose in my business._

* * *

_Something really set Gellert off tonight during dinner. There was a phoenix on the china design and he started screaming at me about knowing what I was up to again. The commotion woke up Ariana, and I had to Apparate us out quickly to keep her from being affected._

_Gellert was fine the moment we were back at the beach._

_I'm going to have to keep taking him here to keep his mind in the present._

* * *

_**No! No!**_

_Ariana is __**dead**__._

_Gellert didn't calm down this time when we hit the beach. He said he remembered. He said I was a murderer__**! **__He said there __**never **__was any plan to be with me!_

_We fought__**!**_

_Ariana…_

_She flung herself in the way to make me stop. _

_I'd already cast! I'd already— _

_**No!**_

_I came back to her body to see someone had already been there. Tracks led up to a nearby sand dune, then simply vanished. I'd hit Aberforth with a strong suggestion to rush home to his goats before he even knew what happened. I wasn't him. He would have… taken her body with him._

_Gellert had clutched at his head again and Disapparated after seeing Ariana fall. _

_When the Aurors arrived I told them a believable tale. A rather good one, I must say._

_They'll be after Gellert now. _

_Good._

* * *

_I defeated Gellert far more easily than I ever thought I would. _

_He had one of his episodes in the middle of the duel. For a minute, he was the old Gellert again. He was my friend again… He was so much more._

_I defeated him._

_It was for the greater good._

_I took the Elder Wand. He wouldn't be needing it where he was going._

* * *

_Headmaster for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_This will be perfect. Now with Dippet gone, I will have the access to everything I need to continue my research._

* * *

_The bird is back. He found me somehow._

_He stares at me, like he knows._

_He won't get his eggs back, though. I have hidden them away carefully so he won't ever be able to get to them. Let him watch me every day._

_He won't have them. Never again. _

_Go find your lady friend and do whatever you need to do to make some more eggs. These eggs are __**mine**__._

_Where is your lady friend, anyway?_

_No matter. I have what I want._

* * *

_Power. Respect. The Headmaster position comes with such wondrous awards. The International Confederation of Wizards has nominated me to be the Supreme Mugwump. The Wizengamot wants to move me up as well. I may even become Chief Warlock soon. _

_I've instilled such blind devotion in the Gryffindors that they truly believe I can do no wrong. I have bent Minerva's ear so she believes what I say without questioning it like she does everyone and everything else. _

_She __**trusts **__me. _

_Good._

* * *

_I found the perfect replacement for Tom since he never came back. Peter Pettigrew. His parents were slaughtered in front of him by Death Eaters, and I arrived just in time to save him. He __**owes **__me. He wants to help me._

_Excellent._

_I will make good use of him._

_The loss of Tom is quite unfortunate. He was a good fetcher. He was so devoted to Ariana that he would do anything to see her happy… and since she always wanted __**me **__happy, that worked out perfectly._

_Peter will infiltrate the Potters' lives and become invaluable. In time, he will bring the location of the cloak to me. Like the other Hallows, it is fated to be mine._

* * *

_I can't read this one. This… Hermione Black. Looking into her mind is like staring into the Abyss itself. It is as black as her name. I feel nothing. See nothing. Then, she looks at me and it's all bubbles and silly, giggly, normal childish thoughts. She's either a genius or a lunatic._

_She's probably a lunatic. Most of her family was, anyway._

* * *

_Remus Lupin is entirely too happy for my purposes._

_Someone got to him… befriended him._

_He has friends that everyone knows, and I cannot take that away without it casting suspicion on him. If his condition as a werewolf were to become known, then it would cast a shadow on me that I cannot afford._

_I will give him his little hut to change in. I'll even let Minerva know it's there to help him and make her think I'm trusting her with a great secret. She'll mother him for me and everyone will be oblivious._

* * *

_That gangly Slytherin boy. Snape._

_There is something __**off **__about him. He hangs with the likes of Hermione Black, yet he also tolerates one of my little Gryffindors. The dissension I have purposely fostered between Gryffindor and Slytherin seems to be having little to no effect on him. _

_Why?_

_What is keeping them together?_

_I used to be able to read him so easily, but now, when he's with his little friends, it's like he's somehow being protected. _

_Fawkes likes him too._

_I knew there was a reason_ _**I**_ _didn't like the boy._

* * *

_I'm using Peter to insure that the Gryffindors remain at odds with the Slytherins. The more the better. The more conflict, the less they pay attention to everything else around them. Peter can keep me informed about what's going in the background._

* * *

_Damn bird really __**likes **__that gangly Slytherin boy._

_I hate how they can sit right here in my office and play chess together and the bird goes right to them, sitting on the boy's shoulder and singing away like everything is jolly good._

_When I excused the pair to return to their dorms, Fawkes went along with them._

_Stupid bird._

* * *

_Damn it all._

_Those three meddlesome students somehow managed to get themselves apprenticed. Bad enough that Minerva had her eyes set on that Hermione Black from day one. Now there are three of them. _

_They are all dressed in apprentice robes, looking all professional, and people habitually defer to them because of their station. Unlike normal students, they never step out of line or defy any of Minerva's orders. Not even once. It's like they trust her so much they will tell her everything from what they eat for breakfast to when they have a button missing on their robes._

_This school doesn't __**need **__any more apprentices. All they do is encourage teamwork and obedience. They have special exceptions permitting them to Portkey on and off the school grounds to work with their masters. They put in applications to Apparate at the age of twelve. No more apprentices. I can't have students knowing that they have actual options here._

* * *

_Clearance to do magic outside of Hogwarts? _

_I don't know how Minerva and Master Barberry managed to convince the Wizengamot to allow it, but they somehow did and with flying colours. Everyone except me approved it. They all looked at me like I was a lunatic for opposing their efforts._

_Apprentices are expected to do magic in performance of their duty to their masters? I myself wasn't apprenticed until I was seventeen. They should have to wait like just the rest of us._

_Now we'll be going back to the days when masters hand-picked apprentices before they were even eleven._

_Disgusting._

_Students should be trusting me, their Headmaster._

_That's the __**only **__trust they should ever need._

* * *

_Peter is out of the running._

_I had to move him to Norway._

_He managed not only to get his leg torn off by an angry werewolf, but he also drove James Potter to question himself and his actions. I'm going to have to take a new approach in order to get him to expose the location of the cloak._

_We're going to need a new caretaker. That will do._

* * *

_Must I do __**everything **__myself?_

_Someone got to Argus before I could arrange to keep him isolated._

_Somehow his room is clean and he has glorious chambers complete with tile mosaics and stained glass windows. He even has a kitten._

_Why is it always bloody animals getting in my way?_

* * *

_The Board of Governors shut down my objection against Minerva being permitted to have apprentice chambers attached to her own. Worse, now the school is infested with apprentices. Kettleburn even has one. And now Flitwick has a nice half-goblin apprentice to shadow in his half-goblin footsteps. _

_The bloody __**world **__is ending._

* * *

_I've figured out what I need to do. Those three apprentices have been a thorn in my side since the day they were Sorted. I'm going to use the spell I tested on Argus back when Gellert and I still saw eye to eye. _

_Gellert said it was entirely theoretical, but I know it's not just that anymore._

_I collected a personal object from each of them. All I have to do is tweak the time-turner to focus on the most unstable and vulnerable time in their lives as children and ensure their magic will never emerge._

_No magic. No more problem._

_I'll be able to focus on what really matters: Ariana._

_The world will thank me for it._

_I will become the Master of Death._

_I will become the Master of Time._

_Once I fix that singular moment that never should have happened, everything else I have done will not matter. Everything else will fix itself._

_All of the unfortunate yet necessary tasks I have performed will be erased._

_Ariana._

_I will make right what was done to you._

_Muggles will never hurt another magical child again._

_We __**will **__live in a peaceful world. _

* * *

Minerva woke to find herself leaning against Gilford. The both of them had fallen asleep over the pile of notebooks. Gilford was draped across Tuft. She was leaning against Gilford, and there were balls of phoenixes roosting over them, snoozing contentedly.

Minerva's eyes widened as she realised she'd been drooling a little on Severus' black feathers. Tuft had snuggled Hermione like his own, personal bird pillow, and Tuit had been providing pillow duty for Minerva's head.

The drowsy purple phoenix yawned right in her face and preened Minerva's nose before tucking his head back under his wing. At some point, one of the phoenixes had dragged over a duvet to cover them, and Teacup, Dandy, and Jean were snuggled up against her but under the duvet, providing extra warmth. Razz nestled on top of Tuft's shaggy head like a feathered hat.

Her eyes grew heavy as sleep dragged her back under into a peace that Albus Dumbledore could only dream of but would never obtain.

* * *

"We've _**seen **_what he's done!" one of the gathered Aurors yelled across the long table they had commandeered for a more official meeting between multiple masters, Aurors, and even certain members of the Wizengamot. "Surely that means we can do _**something!**_"

"What about the notebooks?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"What about the memories?"

"What about the man himself? I was told he would be here tonight!"

"I'm not sure where you heard that, Jameson, but Dumbledore is still at St Mungo's being evaluated."

"What's to evaluate? He's guilty. Anyone can see that!"

"He gets his trial," Moody barked over the yelling. "Just as any of us would. Regardless if we plan to send him off to Azkaban straight after."

"I was told Dumbledore was going to be here to answer for his crimes!"

"Bronsen, I have _**no **_idea where you're getting your info—"

Just then a very familiar greying wizard with a long beard came striding into the room.

Cloth went flying in all directions as black-clad people wearing masks stood up in the crowd. "For the Dark Lord!" they yelled, and everything promptly went to hell in a handbasket.

* * *

Moody dove for the floor, shielding himself as five green beams crashed into the wall directly behind where he had been. He grunted, slamming his hand down hard on the floor, releasing a comprehensive anti-Apparition spell. No one was going _anywhere_.

Aurors disguised as citizens sent a barrage of spells flying at the Death Eaters. Hermione and Severus stood back-to-back, working in tandem to both attack and shield, flying from one place to another as they nimbly dodged offensive spells.

James Potter flung out a handful of bouncing licorice snaps that latched onto a Death Eater's face, gnawing off the mask and attacking the soft flesh beneath. The wizard clutching his face in agony and and was immediately taken out of the fight by James' parents with a double stupefy.

Shattenjäger had the room surrounded in Fiendfyre that literally roared its fury. A handful of Death Eaters, thinking it to be normal fire, attempted to cross it, and were instantly immolated. Meanwhile, all of the gathered Aurors and Order members passed through as though it was nothing thanks to the spell instantly recognising friend and foe.

Moody made a mental note to thank Violet for the feather charms that adorned every ear of their agents and allies.

Anya was held at wand point by one Death Eater, but he failed to notice how the blue flames were crawling down her hands. She smashed her palms against the Death Eater's head and set it on fire.

The unfortunate Death Eater fell back, screaming, falling headlong into the Fiendfyre as Anya cracked her neck, picked up her wand, and sent another Death Eater flying across the room before they could get off a spell aimed at the fiercely fighting Arthur and Molly Weasley.

Molly Weasley was a tower of rage, and she froze a Death Eater in mid-air and then shattered them into icy particles. "That was for my brothers, you son of a—"

Arthur pulled her down to the floor as spells zinged in the air where they had been standing.

Sirius, Remus, Bianca, and Evelyn were taking the low route, attacking Death Eaters from under the table and hitting them in _very _vulnerable places. The sneak attacks were taking them by complete surprise, and that was all the opportunity the other Aurors needed to take them out.

"Some party," Aberforth grunted as he and Moody ducked under the table for a moment and took out a Death Eater attempting to make their way underneath it. "If you'd told me they were going to try and murder me all at once, I'd have worn my brother's favourite robes and tried to get blood all over them."

Moody shook his head and quickly rolled to the side, standing up to pick off the Death Eater that was trying to make their way towards Vinetender. Blind she may be, but she was controlling roots that were popping out from the ground, sending them to curl around the downed Death Eaters and restrain them within their tight embrace. Beardog, however, had reached his limit on threats against Violet, and he transformed and snapped the nearby Death Eater in his jaws and shook, shook, shook him like a rag doll. Moody heard the bones cracking as the man gurgled, and Beardog flung him across the room with a final violent shake and snarl. Blood dripped from his jaws as a cutting curse hit him in the shoulder, and the prehistoric Arctocyon let out a blood-curdling roar and pounced on his attacker, taking the Dark wizard's arm, wand and all into his mouth and down his throat. He then snapped his jaws and shook violently, sending the man screaming in agony as he flew across the room.

Shattenjäger was there in an instant, helping remove the remains of the wizard's arm from Beardog's mouth and throat. The Animagus coughed, hacking a little, and then he transformed into human form and stupefied the man pointing his wand at Shattenjäger.

Viktor spread his wings and covered Violet as fire came directly for them. Viktor screamed in fury as Master Greenpetal blasted the Death Eater back with a powerful jet of water.

A Death Eater hit Greenpetal with a Cruciatus curse, causing the elder master to lose focus and crumple, falling backwards into the fire. The Death Eater went storming after Greenpetal, forgetting that the fire was not formed of normal flame. The eager Fiendfyre roared as it descended upon the Death Eater and entered through his mouth and rendered him into ash from the inside out.

The other masters gathered on the other side of the fire, tending the wounded and injured, and Moody heard them yelling orders to each other from behind the flames.

James Potter threw out what looked like a licorice whip, but it garroted the nearest Death Eater and wrapped around their face, causing them to tip over as Regulus rose behind him and literally knocked the Death Eater's head clear off his shoulders with one well-placed swat.

Regulus roared, foam spraying from his mouth as his body dripped with blood from many small wounds. Orion Black stepped out from behind Regulus, having covered his son's back with his own vicious brand of wand-work for the majority of the fight.

Another wave of Death Eaters Apparated in, providing reinforcement for their side of the battle.

Then, like a floating banshee, Walburga Black slowly glided across the fire. She screamed, her magic enhancing her voice into a powerful weapon. The Death Eaters that were still standing clutched at their ears in severe pain. Walburga pulled a fan out from her robes, opening it to fan her face before she pointed it outward.

All of the Aurors and their allies hit the floor, having been warned what was coming, and a thousand projectiles came shooting out of her fan like blades of a knife. Death Eaters screamed as they held their faces, bodies, and everything that had been hit by her fan-blades.

Moody touched his custom earplugs, saying a silent prayer to Merlin that he would never get on the wrong side of Walburga Black's wrath… ever.

The next wave of Death Eaters Apparated in, but this time, Lily Evans stood in the middle of the table and she smashed a jar of what looked like some random hair care product on the surface of the table. She spun her wand in a vast circle and sent the cloud of liquid to fill the upper part of the room. As bodies hit the ground and the table, Moody saw the cloud dissipate, and all of those that had Apparated in were being choked to death or smothered by their own rapidly growing hair.

Lily's face was twisted in rage, even as the last of the Death Eaters fell to the ground.

James flung himself at her, smashing her down to the table as a vicious green beam shot through the air right where she had been.

Orion grabbed the Death Eater by the mask and crushed it easily, jerking his head to the side. His mouth opened, exposing long canine teeth as his muzzle formed and he tore into the Dark Wizard's throat with a snarl of fury, ripping it out as his half-transformed arm flung the body into the eagerly waiting Fiendfyre.

The next wave of Death Eaters Apparated in, apparently encouraged by the lack of their comrades porting out. As they arrived, however, all they saw was Lucius Malfoy standing in the middle of the table, tall and arrogant.

The Death Eaters pointed their wands at him.

"Traitor!"

"Mudblood lover!"

"Kill him!"

Lucius' lip curled into a contemptuous sneer. He pressed his index finger and wand to his lips. Habanero spread his wings wide from his perch on Lucius' shoulder, burning a bright and vivid orange. "Sit, dogs. Your _master_ commands you."

There was a surge of magic and the Death Eaters cried out as their bodies jerked and twisted into that of various canine forms. They struggled to get out of their robes, but Violet Vinetender was ready for them. She stood, Viktor with his wings spread on her shoulder, with her blind eyes glowing a deep purple. She sang, and the table itself burst into pieces, growing out like the gnarled roots of a great oak. The roots sought out each haplessly entangled canine and smashed over them, splitting into tendrils of a living cage.

Violet staggered and collapsed, and Beardog was there catching her to ease her to the ground. "I've got you, love."

"Did I get them?" she asked, her eyes returning to normal. Viktor warbled to her lovingly.

"Every last one love," Stephan praised her with a smile.

"Good," she said. "I need a nap." She slumped straight into his waiting arms.

Moody looked around the destroyed room as Shattenjäger soothed the Fiendfyre with his hands, whispering to it before it faded away with a soft purr.

"Well, don't just stand there with gawping with your jaws flopping on the ground!" Moody barked. "Get cuffs on the ones that aren't dead and make sure the ones that look dead _**are **_dead!"

Aurors immediately scrambled in all directions to do as they were told.

Moody saw that Hermione and Severus were in their phoenix forms covering something with their flaming wings.

"What do you have there, _?" he said softly.

The two phoenixes seemed to relax, their flames died down as black wings and orange wings untangled from each other to expose a red-haired young boy about the age of seven or eight staring back at him.

"And just who are you, little lad?" Moody asked gently.

"Bill? Merlin, _**BILL**_!" Molly Weasley screeched, running over to scoop up the her son from the floor. "I left you at your auntie's with Percy, Charlie, Fred, and George!"

Moody did the math and wondered why Molly and Arthur would even volunteer to be here, endangering their lives, with so many young children depending on them.

"I had to help!" Bill Weasley said, jutting out his jaw stubbornly."So mummy doesn't have to cry anymore!"

Molly burst into tears, squashing her son to her bosom as she and Arthur promptly took him to somewhere a bit safer.

Moody nodded to the two Snape phoenixes and let out a sigh of relief. "I don't know about you, but I could sure use a nice, long soak in your hot springs, Lord and Lady Snape."

Hermione and Severus transformed back into human form. "Any time, Auror Moody," the said together.

"Alastor, my friends," Moody said. "You are my equals now. Let no one tell you different."

Hermione and Severus smiled at him wearily.

"Does that mean I get call you Alastor too?" Sirius asked brightly.

"_No_," Moody snapped.

"Aw, when do _I _get to graduate?" Sirius pouted.

Moody snorted. "Never," the Auror said, storming out of the room to make sure all the captured were properly handled.

Sirius sighed. "So not fair."

"No, what's not fair is that you don't have your arm in a sling," Regulus groused, complaining that his own arm was indeed in a sling and he wasn't at all happy about it.

"Never thought I'd be happy I was a nice, smaller animal like a dog when compared to you, brother," Sirius retorted. "Smaller target. Much harder to hit."

Regulus sniffed as he watched his father wrap their Lady mother in an embrace, kissing her forehead gently as he rubbed her back. "Worth it," he said after a while.

Sirius looked around him, watching people coming together and helping tend and support the injured. He saw Beardog cradling Vinetender in his arms, rocking her body as he pressed his lips gently to her forehead. He saw McGonagall and Barberry distributing potions to heal and replenish blood enough to stabilise those that still needed to be transported out. He saw his sister slumped against her Lord husband, his arms wrapped around her tightly as he buried his face into her curls. He saw James hugging his parents along with Lily in sheer relief.

He felt the tingle as Moody released the anti-Apparate jinx on the room.

"You're right, little brother," Sirius agreed. "It was definitely worth it."

* * *

**A/N**: For those of you who don't know Dutch off the top of your head (you don't?! GASP) I give you translations (heh, heh)

**Now that we have a witness:**_We hebben nu een getuige_

**You did well, my friend. Are you ready to be my partner?**: _Uitstekend werk, mijn vriendin. Ben je er klaar voor om mijn partner te worden?_"

_Ik ben er klaar voor:_ _**I am ready**_

Ik zal mijn uiterste best doen om je trots op mij te laten zijn. = **I shall do my best to make you proud of me.**

Ik ben al trots op je Evelyn = **I am already proud**

En ik accepteer = **And I accepted**

"_Zullen we nog een grapje met hem uithalen, Evelyn?_ = **Shall we play with him some more, Evelyn?"**


	46. 1978 Repercussions

**A/N: **This chapter is long. Very, very long. Sorry? Consider it a pre-apology of sorts for the fact that the next chapter won't be for a while because careplans + exam = allthestuffthatmakesmecry.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose (Praise her for putting up with my inability to type) and Dutchgirl01

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 46**

**1978 Repercussions**

"_Death is a debt we all must pay." ~Euripides_

* * *

_**Massive Influx of Death Eaters Into Azkaban,**_

_**Unexpected Number of Arrests Causes Scramble **_

_**To Process Flood of New Prisoners**_

_After a battle that was heard and witnessed by many, Azkaban is currently struggling to place a startling number of confirmed Death Eaters to await their official trials before the Wizengamot. Due to the shockingly large number of incoming prisoners, officials have been forced to house those arrested together in the same, larger holding cell to await their processing and eventual assignment to individual accommodations._

_Over fifty casualties littered the floor of the meeting hall where Aurors, Ministry officials, masters, and other concerned citizens had gathered to discuss the controversial matter of the current Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore, who has recently come under suspicion of the crimes of time travel without proper authorisation, time tampering, purposeful alteration of magical lineages, along with multiple other serious crimes. Due to the fact that Dumbledore is, at this moment, being treated in the intensive care wing at St Mungo's, the Headmaster has so far been unavailable to be interviewed by Aurors and the Department of Mysteries, and many people had been growing restless while waiting for word on the progress of the Department of Law Enforcement's ongoing investigation._

_The meeting, which was the first of many scheduled to be open to the public for questions and answers, in hopes of diffusing the many rumours and unfortunate misunderstandings of current law, was unfortunately crashed by a very large contingent of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters, the infamous zealots to his stated twin causes of blood purity and a crusade against all things Albus Dumbledore._

_Thanks to the extensive pre-planning for such an event, casualties were kept to a minimum, save those of the Death Eaters themselves. _

_A number of concerned citizens battled their way in from the streets after the Death Eaters began to swarm and attack those in the meeting hall, causing quite a bit of building damage as well as a number of casualties on both sides. While the Wizarding community mourns the loss of Edmund and Claudia Edevane, Angelica Brody-Whitfield, Springbriar Fiddlehead, Heather Swallowtail, Marcus Deville, Sistine McTavish, Horatio Cinderfeld, Meagan Hearthtender, and Augustus Gryphonbane along with their friends and families, the casualties on the side of Voldemort's elite proved far more substantial. _

_Amongst the confirmed dead were notable members of well-known families such as Avery, Carrow, Rookwood, Goyle, Nott, Rosier, Crabbe, Rowle, Travers, Macnair, Wilkes, Mulciber, and Yaxley. Among those captured were other members of the same families, but included the notably infamous Dark wizard brothers Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, husband and brother-in-law of the late, but equally infamous, Bellatrix Lestrange. Others were also captured, but their names have not been disclosed until confirmation of the possible influence of the Imperius Curse can be officially determined. The full list of arrested persons will not be released to the public until everyone has been positively identified and the particulars of their involvement ascertained. Evidence of the use of Polyjuice Potion was detected in a number of those who have been arrested, and Aurors are understandably hesitant to release the names of those that they cannot be absolutely positive are the persons they appear to be._

_Thanks to the swift, combined efforts of both upstanding citizens and courageous members of magical law enforcement, many of the most terrifying agents of the rising Dark Lord Voldemort have been taken out of the action and locked up in Azkaban— a location that many people have expressed is "far too good a place for the likes of them."_

* * *

_Saturday, July 1st, 1978, Waning Crescent 14%_

Rastaban Lestrange leaned against the bars of the group holding cell with a scowl. His body ached painfully where he had been mauled by a bloody bear.

A _bear_!

He curled his lip in disgust.

The Black Family was apparently devolving into a collection of Mudblood-loving heathens who had forgotten what true Purity was.

A dementor floated by the cell, causing all within to shiver and tremble inside as waves of utter despair filled them. Rastaban shuddered, shivering violently up against the bars as he watched most of his comrades crumple to the floor and moan piteously. Other dementors were floating in to "visit" and feed on a number of the new prisoners.

The Dark Lord had claimed that the dementors were on _their _side, but Rastaban knew the only true loyalty the dark creatures had were to themselves and their hunger.

Icy cold fingers seemed to crawl all over his body and he began to convulse against the bars.

_Click_.

The iron door of the group cell creaked open, permitting entry into the empty holding cell beyond. Rastaban crawled away from the dementor, feeling drained and utterly despondent, but the Dark creature floated away from him, apparently choosing to find a meal elsewhere.

Rastaban made a considerable effort to put more distance between himself and the others, plastering his back to the furthest cell wall. Another dementor was floating in front of the cell, but it seemed to pay him no mind, and he found himself reluctantly grateful for that surprising bit of luck.

Damn all those like the Black family. Impure Mudblood lovers. Beast consorters. They probably fornicated with each other in dirty, lustful, Muggle rites. _Pathetic_.

He heard a soft whuff and looked over to see two pairs of glowing pink eyes staring at him from the neighboring cell. As he gazed into them, his mind felt more at ease as a feeling of warm acceptance flowed through him.

He thrust his hands through the bars and touched the animal's soft, pink fur. It _understood _him. He could _sense _it.

The poodle assiduously licked at his hands and arms, still covered in multiple cuts and scrapes from the recent battle, and Rastaban let out a soft moan, his eyelids fluttering closed with the unexpected flood of blissful pleasure.

The Mudbloods would _pay_. He would escape this place and make them _all _suffer.

He slowly stroked the poodle's soft ears, his eyes already beginning to glaze over, His head lowered to rest against the cold bars, and a greyish-pink muzzle licked at his skin, covering his face with warm drool.

Rastaban began to pant rapidly. His lips parted slightly as _he _began to drool. His face was pushing out into a canine muzzle, little by little, filling him with a dull ache of pain. Yet even though it was somewhat painful, he felt a growing sense of _need_, of overwhelming _desire_. He whined softly, his entire body trembling with the strength of this sudden, almost feverish longing.

Pain forced him down onto his hands and knees. His spine was buckling and contorting as his limbs yanked, twisted, and reformed. His body tore free, ripping from the confines of his prison uniform as his transformation rapidly accelerated, fueled by his intense hatred and desire for revenge. He embraced it. He _wanted_ it.

But even as his traitorous body gleefully welcomed the metamorphosis, Rabastan's very human, Pureblood mind, trapped in a small, dark place very deep within, was shrieking wildly in horror even as his body was being Turned into the very thing he despised most of all: a _beast_.

The dementor floated closer to Rabastan, sensing the creation of a new and much more appealing food source. It leaned in, sucking out the emotions of Azkaban's newest were-poodle.

Ah! The exquisite flow of profound hatred mixed with despair and the dual flavours of pleasure and horror mingled together into a uniquely sumptuous delight. It was a positively _orgasmic _cocktail for the dementor. The experiment had proven highly successful. Now, this food would go and inflict its new condition upon all the others. He and his brethren would be well-fed for a long, long time.

The newest were-poodle whined on his back after the dementor had fed upon him, seemingly in a state of bliss himself as the Dark creature was feeding upon him. Truly, it was a perfect win-win situation. He would leave this one to go mingle with his not-quite-as-delicious friends. He would tell his brethren to leave them alone for a while.

If they waited, there would be more than enough such glorious meals for all of their kind.

They could wait.

They could wait just as long as it took.

The dementor watched as the blissfully happy were-poodle crawled over to one of the other prisoners who was still recovering from being fed on. The beast laid its head in their lap and began to tenderly lick their hands.

Slowly, a trail of iridescent drool began to trickle down the prisoner's face and their eyes began to glow pink.

_Excellent_.

* * *

_**Werepoodle-ism Breakout in Azkaban**_

_**Healers Point Accusing Fingers at Prejudice and Hatred**_

_Experiencing intense feelings of hatred? Might want to get that checked out. It could end up turning you into a were-poodle._

_Researcher and Healer, Rainpetal Brightstone came in to discover a mass outbreak of pink at Azkaban during her weekly wellness check on the prisoners. Normally, the prison is guarded solely by Dementors; however, it seems that while the human staff members were away, the prison developed a highly contagious problem._

_Almost every person captured during the Death Eater fiasco last week has been transformed into a were-poodle._

"_I've never seen anything like it!" Rainpetal exclaimed. "We've had hundreds of human guards bitten by Madam Um— Madam Lupin before this, and none of them were Turned. "Mr Lupin was the first and only transformative case, and now, suddenly, we have an entire cellblock full of very pink, yappy, and oddly happy were-poodles._

"_I swear I saw three of them bringing a ball over to a Dementor as if asking to play fetch," wizard guard Maynard stated. "The Dementors play with them, feed on them, and leave the poodles on their backs, rolling about like they've just had their tummies rubbed."_

_The minimal human guards and staff of Azkaban are usually only housed there when researchers and visitors make arrangements to visit the prison. The rest of the time, the Dementors take care of all other business from feeding to maintaining the cells._

"_It's kinda strange, actually," guard Humperdink stated. "It feels strangely peaceful in there now. Even the Dementors seem happier."_

_Healer Culpepper stated after a careful assessment of the poodles in question that looks can be deceiving. "The human mind of the afflicted is trapped in the background, screaming. The dominant personality is now the beast, or rather the poodle, if you will. I think the unique balance of poodle happiness and human torment is what makes them the Dementors' preferred food source. In one creature they get all of the despair and torment they desire mixed with a chaser of bestial bliss. I'm not sure whether to be horrified or astounded at how perfect this odd symbiosis is."_

_Three prisoners have been moved out of the mass holding cell of poodles, having apparently proven immune to the mass Turning. Mayvin Harcourt, Stephanie Bascombe, and Jarod Spinster were all found to have been under the Imperius Curse during the night in question, and their lack of the specific negative personality traits that seem to place persons at high risk appears to have protected them from being Turned like all the others. _

"Ik heb gehoord van weerwolven, maar deze weerpoedel uitbraak is totaal iets anders!" _Dutch Healer Sikkenga stated on interview. Healer Sikkenga was studying Fenrir Greyback during his incarceration and suddenly found himself surrounded in pink were-poodles. He has since switched his study from werewolves to were-poodles, seeing as werewolves have been liberated by the Wolfsbane Potion._

_The infestation of lurid pink canines has brought Healers in droves from all around the world. American, Dutch, German, Swiss, English, Polish researchers and even more from other wizarding communities have decided to travel to Azkaban to study the new species and the disease that created them._

"_It's so strange that it's not transmissible to normal folk," Healer Kincaid marveled. "You literally have to be a horrible person inside in order to contract this disease._

_To top off the benefits of this strange disease outbreak, the Dementors seem even more strongly inclined to protect their ideal food source and prevent prisoner escapes._

"_We can now easily tell who was really guilty," Dutch Healer Sikkenga stated to us, explaining that guilt was clearly reflected by the prisoner's being Turned in the first place "You just don't turn into a were-poodle unless you harbor some extremely powerful hatred and bigotry. Ben blij toe dat ik er niet eentje ben. I can't imagine how dreadful it would be trapped as a poodle in Azkaban with my human mind intact but buried so deeply as to be unable to say or do anything about it."_

_The Dutch healer looked thoughtful. "_Boontje komt om zijn loontje," _he said, stroking his beard. "As the English say, 'what comes around… goes around'."_

"_So much more interesting than jackalopes," American Healer Walker from Texas stated. "Our last case of were-armadillos turned out to be a bad reaction to a new, experimental variety of firewhisky. That was unfortunate. Those little darlin's were pretty cute."_

"_Were-poodles are kind of obnoxiously cute once the Dementors feed on them," guard Hammerfell stated. "I'll admit I played fanged frisbee fetch with one the other night. I wouldn't want anything to do with one before they're fed on, though. They're darn mean little critters otherwise."_

_As it stands, werepoodle-ism merits a lifetime sentence in Azkaban due to its now-confirmed highly transmittable status and the lack of any cure for the affliction. _

"_It's just not a good place or time to be a Death Eater," Healer Sikkenga stated. "Unless you want to be a poodle, that is, but the types of people who want to be pink and adorable tend not to be the kind of people that poodle-anthropy is transmittable to." _

"_There is a certain irony to that," Sikkenga added. _

* * *

"Well, well, if it isn't the newly-married one," Argus chuckled as he let Hope into his quarters. "Do come in."

Hope flushed. "I— I wasn't exactly expecting it."

"One rarely expects magic to happen. The kind that happens between two people so much less so than some others."

Mrs Norris hopped into Hope's lap with a plaintive meow of demand.

Hope scratched her ears and ran her hand along her back, gently grasping her tail as she went. It was just enough to cause Mrs Norris to lift her butt in typical happy cat fashion. "This place is _gorgeous_," Hope oogled at Argus' quarters. "However did you—"

Argus smiled. "Hermione, Remus, Severus, and Regulus helped me make this my home. My original quarters were considerably smaller than this, and extremely cluttered, but they moved it all here after fixing all the cabinets, tables, chairs, bed, and windows."

Hope touched the stained glass window and gasped as it suddenly shifted, changing scenes from a magnificent dragon to a readily recognisable representation of Mrs Norris. She marveled at the sight. "Wow!"

"They've been such good friends to me and Mrs Norris," Argus said with a smile. "Helped me feel at home. Helped me feel wanted."

Hope pet Mrs Norris a little more strongly, causing the cat to purr loudly. "Why would you _not _feel at home here?"

Argus idly traced his teacup with his fingers. "When I first came, the Headmaster tried to isolate me from everyone. It's very hard to feel wanted when no one knows you even exist."

Hope pressed his hand to his. "I'm so sorry, Argus. No one should ever be made to feel that way. I have my own sins to bear. I wasn't there for my son when I should have been. I will regret that forever— I deeply regret that even now."

Argus shook his head. "A mother makes sacrifices. Mothers...cannot help but be what the are. Believe me, there are those that that fail at the entire love and mothering thing, but you aren't one of them. Remus talks very highly of you, and I think that especially after hearing about the man who was more a beast than the werewolf ever was, you'll agree that there is something more what you have now that he is… "

Hope smiled a little. "Bringing a little pink to Azkabar?"

"Azkaban, yes," Argus laughed.

"Azkaban, Akabar," Hope sighed. "Supercalifrajulisticexpealadocious."

Argus blinked. "I have the sudden urge to offer you a tissue."

Hope laughed warmly. Then her face turned sombre. "I heard about what he did to you, Argus. I'm sorry."

Argus patted her hand and then laughed as Mrs Norris promptly infiltrated herself under it to put the attention back where it belonged. "I have a really good life here, Hope. I think that perhaps I wouldn't have respected that as much if things hadn't started out as they did. I am… grateful that I had a chance to realise that. I will admit I wouldn't mind putting my hands around the old man's neck for what he put my parents through, thinking they had done something horrible to me as a child. Exposed me to too much or not enough… thinking themselves somehow to blame for… me."

Hope took her turn patting Argus' hand, and Mrs Norris meowed, sliding under her hand too.

"We all have our gifts, Argus," Hope said "Take it from a mother. Sometimes you don't realise what you have until one day, you find it staring at you in the face from a place you never expected."

"I think I see where Remus gets his thoughtfulness," Argus said, extricating Mrs Norris from Hope's lap only to have the cat hop back between them and purr, rubbing herself over them both until they were thoroughly covered in cat hair.

Argus sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" he muttered to the cat.

Hope pulled a lint brush out from her pocket and busied herself brushing the cat fur off their clothes. "Rule number one of being a successful parent. Always be prepared."

* * *

Alastor found himself smiling from ear-to-ear as he watched Hope realise he was watching her. Her face lit up like a tree bedecked in a multitude of fairy lights at Christmastime, and it was all he could do not to simply scoop her up and twirl her around. Despite being at Hogwarts for business, he took a moment to catch her enthusiastic run towards him.

"Alastor," Hope breathed into face, her eyes filled with the kind of warmth that spilt over and caused him to soften almost immediately.

Alastor flushed slightly but smiled, "Hullo there, love."

Hope blushed, pressing her head against his chest.

"How did your interview with Professor Burbage go?" Alastor asked.

Hope smiled. "I think it went well. She's very interested in having me consult with her on her plans for… muddle studies?"

Alastor snorted. "Muggle. Muggle Studies."

Hope looked sheepish. "Lyall didn't really share his world with me. When we started going to the dinners for Remus and his accomplishments, it was the first time he… I… ever saw this world together."

Alastor's face darkened. He closed his eyes as his jaw set firmly. "It shouldn't be that way. This world is our world. It is your world too. There are things we cannot share with those who have no connections to the magical, and that secret must be kept for the safety of everything we have come to rely on. But that does not mean we need to keep such secrets from those we hold dear. Do you… understand what I'm saying?"

Hope touched his frowning mouth with her fingers. "I think you just told me that you're not trying to keep secrets from me."

Alastor let out a huff of breath. "There is a certain irony in that, considering my job often involves keeping secrets from just about everyone."

Hope smiled somewhat sadly. "So much weight on your shoulders, Alastor. I do not envy you that. I will tell you that I trust you to tell me what you can. I won't hold it against you that there are things you won't be able to tell me. All I ask is that when I do ask and you can't tell, just tell me that. I will understand. Sometimes, I'll be frustrated, but I _do _trust you. I'm just a fallible human, but I promise you I will try my best to not take offense when all my questions are answered with 'I can't tell you'."

Alastor pressed his lips to Hope's forehead tenderly. "Not all of your questions, Rosewolf, will be answered in the negative." Shyly, he pressed his lips to hers like a boy experiencing his first awkward kiss.

Suddenly, a glossy brown canine head popped out from under Hope's long skirt and whined softly. His floppy triangular ears perked slightly as he looked up at Alastor with wonder.

Hope blushed. "He found me in the gardens. Poor thing had a rope around his neck that was half-choking him. He's marvelously well-behaved. Every time someone comes by, he hides under my skirt and gets really quiet. I think he's decided he likes you… or wants to like you."

Alastor stared down at the somewhat fuzzy-looking pup who gazed up at him with big, brown, hopeful eyes.

"Can we keep him, _please_?" Hope pleaded in a whisper. "I know it's only been a few hours, but—"

"I suppose someone needs to keep an eye on you when I'm away, hrm?" Alastor said, sounding a little more like his usual gruff self.

The puppy whined and wagged his tail, making it look like Hope's skirt was attempting to defy gravity.

Alastor huffed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a dog. He could keep you company when I have to be away." He brushed his fingers against her cheek. "Not that I wish to be any longer than necessary."

Hope smiled. "I'm not one of those young women who craves constant attention to feel secure, Alastor. I _know _you care. Our somewhat impromptu marriage proves this, aye? You have already been such a support to me, Alastor. You've given me more in less than a year than my husband of many years gave me during our entire marriage. You do not have to worry so much, Alastor. I will be here when you come home. Well, not necessarily right here... in the yard of a magical school, but home."

Alastor smiled at her, and then frowned as the pup snapped up his shoelaces and managed to swipe one. He gazed down at the pup with frustration. "Alright, little bugger, you can come home with us."

Hope grinned. "You hear that Acer? You get to come home with us!"

Alastor tilted his head.

"Short for _Acer saccharum_, the sugar maple tree," Hope explained. "The colour of his fur reminds me of maple syrup. One of my uncles used to send me a gallon every year from Canada. Also the leaves have three main points that stand out from the rest, so I thought it was appropriate."

Alastor blinked. "I'm not sure I follow you."

Hope leaned down and patted Acer on the head and cooed. "Come on, little one, show Alastor the rest of you, you silly thing."

Acer woofed happily and panted, stepping out from under her skirt— all three heads of him.

The three-headed pup barked in triplicate, tail wagging furiously.

Alastor blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again.

"Hope," he began. "You just befriended a three-headed dog and you're absolutely okay with that?"

Hope tilted her head, picking up the squirmy, face=licking pup in her arms and smiling. "He's adorable! I couldn't just let him run around with a rope half-choking him to death, and he's so sweet!"

Alastor looked to the pup and back to Hope. "I think I love you, woman."

Hope grinned. "I love you too."

"You have the Portkey back home, aye?" Alastor asked. "The one Master Barberry gave you?"

Hope nodded. She took the small medallion out from around her neck.

"When you port home, take the pup up to Master Barberry and ask him to help you with the paperwork. He'll know what you need."

"Paperwork?" Hope asked.

Alastor gave a half smile. "Three-headed dogs require a special permit to have. You have to prove you have enough room for them since they grow… pretty large, and they prefer to have a place to guard. You'll probably have to take a class in Greece on proper handling and special considerations, but with Master Barberry supporting you, it shouldn't be that much of a problem."

"Oh!" Hope said, staring at the pup bemusedly. "Well, you chose me, so it's the least I can do," she cooed, patting all three heads.

Acer placed all three heads down on her chest and stared up at her adoringly.

"Just so you aren't surprised, Rosewolf," Alastor said. "If he's been registered by someone previously, they may not let you keep him, but since you did find him with a rope choking him, that might not be an issue either. If he's not registered, then there will be even less problem as it means he didn't come from a registered breeder. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures looks far more favourably on responsible folks. They'll come by, check to be sure there is sufficient room for him, that he's healthy and being properly taken care of and not just tied up to a random tree somewhere."

Hope looked somewhat sad at the prospect of possibly losing Acer after she had already been completely won over by his puppy charms. "Well, we'll see what Fate has in store for us, shan't we, love?"

Acer whined and licked under her chin.

_**Crack. **_

_**Crack. **_

_**Crack.**_

The three apprentices of Master Barberry and McGonagall arrived just outside the main gate nearby. They swept into the grounds with similar scowls on their faces as the wards on the front gate let them through.

"That's my cue," Alastor said as they approached. "Work to do. Be sure to take your new friend to Master Barberry."

Acer leapt down from Hope's arms and ran up to the three scowling apprentices, tail wagging furiously.

"Awwww!" Hermione exclaimed, exchanging her scowl for a wide smile of pure adoration. She scooped up the happy pup and snuggled him mercilessly. Severus and Remus rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Now you _really _need to go get Master Barberry to help you," Alastor told her. "Or we'll all be drowning in phoenix tears," he finished gruffly.

Hermione flushed and set the pup down with a sheepish expression.

Alastor sighed. "Females."

Severus and Remus hurriedly turned away to avoid making eye contact with Hermione, which would likely result in their getting pecked right between the eyes by a rather annoyed female phoenix.

Acer ran large circles around their feet, barking happily.

* * *

"What do you sense?" Moody asked as he stood amidst the disarray that was still the Headmaster's Office.

Minerva was attempting to organise the cluttered office after being made Acting Headmistress, and every so often she would shake her head, scoff, and look like she wanted to start randomly chucking things out the nearest tower window. She hadn't moved any of her belongings into the office due to being only the Acting Headmaster at the moment, the official title having not been handed down to her yet, but some of the portraits were muttering that she should just "throw the old coot's collection of useless junk into the bloody fireplace and let them watch it _burn'_.

Some of the portraits were exceedingly vocal about it, having recently had their frames and canvases come under attack during Dumbledore's last attempt to blast Tom Riddle out of his office— if there had even been a real Tom Riddle, construct or otherwise, in the room.

"You can speak freely to these persons," Minerva told to the portraits, releasing them from the geas that prevented them from speaking directly about what they might have seen and heard while under Albus' reign of terror.

All of the portraits seemed to let out a long sigh of great relief, save the few that were hanging in a small vestibule that connected the headmaster's private chambers to the main office. No matter what Minerva said, the portraits there looked quite frustrated and remained stonily silent.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Master?"

"Hrm?" Minerva asked, shaking her head at a box that was full to the brim with endless tins of sherbet lemons.

"Do you know about _these _portraits?" Severus asked gesturing to the ones in question. "There are no plaques stating who they are."

Minerva approached, looking them over with a slight frown. "No, these aren't the old Headmasters or Headmistresses. See, here? There is no seal of Hogwarts on the frame. Every one of the previous Headmasters or Headmistresses has one."

Hermione stared at the thick curtain that, while drawn, was in the ideal position to block sight of anything in the office from his private chambers.

"Do you sense anything?" Moody asked again, now that the chatter from the irritated portraits had finally simmered down.

Severus stared as though he was looking through the walls. "It's more… what I _don't _sense."

"He's right," Hermione affirmed. "I sense… _nothing _here. Nothing at all, not even a hint of time here. I have no idea when I am."

Remus seemed to notice something. "You know those old creepy cartoons that are on, oh, sorry," Remus scratched behind his ear with one fingernail. "Muggles have these programs called cartoons, usually for kids. They are drawn pictures that move, quite a lot like Wizarding photos. In some of the spookier cartoons, there would always be these paintings that had eyes that moved, seeming to follow you around, watching you."

Moody narrowed his eyes at the silent portraits, following their gaze. "They are all staring at exactly the same place, as a matter of fact."

Severus narrowed his own eyes in thought. "What if Dumbledore put a specific geas on these portraits so they _couldn't _answer our questions…"

Remus nodded. "But what if they still wanted to help us?"

Hermione and Severus had their hands out, feeling the air with their fingers.

"Nothing," Hermione said.

"Something is blocking our senses," Severus said, "or, blocking time itself."

Moody stared at a sculpture of a tree that seemed to be growing out of the wall. There were a few hats hanging from the branches. He pulled out his wand and began to cast his tracing spells.

Moody's trace spell flashed red and sent out a blinding light.

Alastor lowered his wand. "This is going to require a Cursebreaker and an Unspeakable. Preferably both at the same time."

The trio exchanged dark scowls as Minerva shook her head. "What's going on in that barmy head of yours, Albus?" she sighed, not really expecting any kind of answer.

* * *

"I haven't seen anything like _this _since I worked for the goblins and they sent me out to an old Aztec ruin to find a dagger," an older witch with silvering hair and eyes the colour of aquamarines stated. "This is serious old school. Dangerous curses akin to what guarded the tombs of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs."

"Unspeakable Streambender," Moody addressed her. "Can you get us past it?"

The older witch nodded thoughtfully. "Give me an hour or so to unravel the curses," she said. "I may be old, but I've seen my fair share of these things. In the meantime, that is safe enough to look through." She pointed to a worn-looking notebook lying on the ground. It was painted to look like a portrait on the outside cover— a fake portrait hiding amongst the real ones.

Alastor picked up the notebook and narrowed his eyes. "Is it bad that I hope he was stupid enough to confess to murdering someone so we can just haul Dumbledore off to hang permanently with the were-poodles of Azkaban?"

Streambender snorted a small laugh and went to her curse-breaking.

* * *

_I have crafted the perfect safe room right here in Hogwarts. As Headmaster, all I had to do is expand on my office and create a magical wall to conceal it. I can now continue my research uninterrupted, and hidden well away from any potential prying eyes. I won't even have to hide myself away in that small shed I was using before when Gellert and I still saw eye-to-eye. _

_Fawkes is watching me, so I will have to ward the room to keep him from knowing what is on the other side. He thinks I'm hiding his eggs in there, and I'll continue to allow him think that. _

_Bloody annoying bird._

* * *

_I captured the female phoenix when she came looking for Fawkes. I cannot seem to siphon her magic to supplement my own, but I can hook her up to the chamber and use her to power the wards to one of the rooms. I saw a glimpse of myself in one of my newly-constructed time rooms. I may not have the right power source to keep the room running, but the phoenix does. I will keep her sedated until I finish hooking her up to the room. Once that is done, she'll be much too weak to free herself and the room will have enough power to show me what I need to see._

* * *

_Traveled to Sumeria and acquired an young Anzu with great difficulty. It's legendary power over sand and dust storms will held me harness the sands of a different sort. All I need to do is subdue it and connect it to the room._

* * *

_Caught a boobrie in the Black Lake that was trying to lure me off with cries of some injured animal. Useless for my purposes. Cast it back into the Black Lake._

* * *

_The Garuda is a myth. Thousands of tales and statues, but nothing that actually had any substance. There is also the possibility that lack of faith caused the bird to vanish. Either way, it is useless to me now._

* * *

_Found eggs of the Orphan Bird, but they were the ones that floated to the bottom of the lake instead of floating on the surface of the water. The hatching chicks were bad-tempered and ugly creatures and had no magical potential whatsoever. I put them out of their misery after one of the little bastards tried to latch onto my nose._

* * *

_Stymphalian birds have evolved… or rather, devolved into creatures who prefer Muggle hamburger to the flesh of people. Apparently some wizard thought it cute to wean them off their original diet of unwary humans and train them to prefer a vastly inferior food source. This, unfortunately, completely suppressed their magical abilities. Now they are just pretty birds with a strange craving for hamburger. Useless._

* * *

_Accidentally hatched a liderc when I fell asleep on my writing desk. It was great for a while. Delivered my messages and found me objects I desired even if it didn't know to find them. But apparently if you don't give them enough to do they then attempt to kill you. I hooked it up to an avian treadmill inside the room and told it to keep the water flowing through the water wheels. It's still in there, powering the water flow like a good little slave. At least I solved my water circulation and purification problems._

* * *

_Finally, the first room is fully powered by the subjugated female phoenix. I also managed to track down a lightning bird in Africa. It was a strange beast, standing almost as tall as a man, with black and white feathers. Every time it strikes a stone with its beak, thunder rumbles nearby and a crack of lightning splits the sky. _

_I spent weeks trying to subdue the beast, chasing it across its various hiding places. Found it in the lap of some young girl no older than seven. Giant bird of lightning laid low by the power of a mere child. Apparently there was a familiar bond. I couldn't take the bird without having to take the girl, and breaking the bond would probably kill them both._

_Stupid birds. Why couldn't it have been vampiric like the legends said? No one would have faulted me for taking it away from the girl then._

_Back to finding some other ways to power my haven._

* * *

_Found the cinnamalogus._

_Allergic to cinnamon._

_**Never **__going to do that again._

* * *

_Found a thunderbird in some random time period. It was being pampered and spoiled by the local indigenous population. They thought that in keeping it happy it protected their people from disease and violence. It laid eggs filled with glorious foods to feed the people in exchange for their pampering. _

_They were so dedicated to the serving the whims of the bird that they didn't seem inclined to learn the most simple and basic of protections._

_Fortunately for me._

_I stunned the bird and took it back with me, using its power to preserve the lives of the other birds I have captured there without the need for food. _

_The natives weren't using it to its full potential. I won't make the same mistake._

* * *

_Excellent. The thunderbird keeps the other birds in a permanent state of stasis, and without its minions to continually tend to it, it doesn't seem inclined to move or even fly. It's almost like it's depressed and lonely._

_I told it was doing far more here than it had ever done back in that pathetic village. Once I saved Ariana, the world was going to be better for everyone. Surely it understood that? _

_It sent me an image of villages of people sick and dying without its care._

_I closed it into the chamber and thoroughly warded it. Insufferable birds with bleeding hearts._

_If they really wanted to help, they would help __**me**__._

* * *

_I have constructed a number of rooms now in which to preserve moments of interest to me. The eggs are useless to power the rooms, but the female phoenix is proving quite effective. _

_I contemplating using Fawkes as well, but the moment he even flies near the room, it starts shaking the wards and delicate constructs. Perhaps it is the bond between he and the female attempting to reassert itself. I cannot risk them getting back together and allowing her to escape. I will keep him firmly out of my affairs and believing that the only thing he must accomplish is finding his missing eggs._

* * *

_Caught a few female phoenixes while traveling back in time with a very special net I devised. I'm fairly certain they've never had anyone attempt to pull them straight out of the time streams before I came along. Good. This will make things so much easier._

* * *

_Caught a male in the streams and he tore my net apart, releasing all of the females I had captured._

_Damn __**all **__male phoenixes!_

* * *

_I have succeeded in finding myself, or rather, other aspects of myself in different timelines. Most of them are annoyingly insufferable. They chose to focus on paying penance for Tom Riddle's acts of aggression instead of focusing on what truly matters— saving Ariana. Others seem to be succeeding rather better than I have. I will take their knowledge and make it my own._

_I have trapped them here, in my time rooms to siphon off their acquired knowledge and ferret out the possible locations of the remaining Hallows. If the times are closely enough related, I should be able to find them all!_

* * *

_For some reason, I can never manage to bring only myself back to the time rooms. I always seem to end up with someone else as well. It's usually Snape. Sometimes it's a ragged-looking boy with black hair and a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. _

_The boy… his mind is like wet tissue paper. No Occlumency worth speaking of. Pathetic. Pity he has nothing to offer me with regard to useful information, nothing but tragic memories of his dead friends._

_I will keep trying._

_The room is shaking, perhaps I have too many trapped here all at once. I will need to find more female phoenixes to stabilise the time rooms._

* * *

_Something is preventing me from traveling as often as I did. Sometimes I can travel. Sometimes I end up right back where I started. I'm not sure what is causing it. _

* * *

_The eggs are missing._

_Damn it all. Somehow that damn Fawkes got his eggs back. Without all of them, I am limited to traveling with the few I kept apart from the main nest. _

_Change in plan. I'm going to get rid of those meddlesome busybodies that keep irritating me at every turn. They are almost as insufferable as Fawkes._

_Then I'll go back in time and rescue __**my **__nest._

* * *

Amelia Bones rubbed her temples as she read the latest notebook of one Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore. "I think I'm going to be ill."

Moody and Shattenjäger shook their heads as Elrond and Amortentia seemed to be catching up on the news from their human's shoulders.

"It might help explain why he's so unstable," Amelia said after a while. She patted Streambender on the shoulder, nodding to her. The Unspeakable smiled at her and finished drawing a glowing circle of runes in the air. She pushed it with her magic towards the wall where it glowed and flashed a brilliant blue.

Suddenly, Hermione and Severus clutched at their heads and fell to the ground, their mouths open wide in a silent scream. Elrond and Amortentia started to squawk and wing flap frantically.

The floor began to shake violently as though a dragon were rising from somewhere deep beneath the ground and was taking heavy footsteps up towards them. Remus' eyes glowed bright gold, and within seconds it was echoed in Severus, Minerva, and Moody's eyes. Remus immediately pulled Severus and Hermione to him, his arms engulfing them as Tuft shifted uneasily beneath the surface of his skin. The werewolf's eyes smoldered with fierce, protective ire.

"So _many _streams," Hermione gasped, holding onto Remus tightly and burying her head against his shoulder.

Severus groaned softly, trying to catch his breath. He looked up into Remus' face. Their gold eyes glowed together like twin suns. Severus gripped Remus' shoulder and nodded. "I'm okay. _We're _okay."

Remus let out a soft whine, Tuft so very close to the surface.

Both Hermione and Severus pressed their heads into Remus with a reassuring nuzzle as though they were in their wolf form, and immediately Remus relaxed, the glow in his eyes fading back into calm green.

"What happened?" Amelia asked, approaching them swiftly to offer her support.

Hermione and Severus allowed her to help them up. "When she broke the ward on the room, we _felt _it."

Severus stared to where a door had opened in the wall. "Hundreds of time lines lay within," Severus explained. "Hundreds that _shouldn't _be."

Amelia looked behind her with considerable concern. She waved her wand sending her cassowary Patronus zinging out the open window. "We're going to need a lot more Unspeakables," she explained.

Minerva nodded firmly. "I'll meet them at the front gate. The school still believes Albus to be the current Headmaster. I cannot drop the anti-Apparation jinx for them."

"Be careful going in," Amelia warned. "If we find anyone or anything alive in there, we will have to be very, very careful about how and when we release them. There is no telling _what _chain of problems we might inadvertently cause."

* * *

As the group of them slowly walked into the hidden room, they realised it was far, far larger than it appeared to be on the outside— so much so that once Minerva got back she walked in and out a few times in order to figure out exactly where she was.

As they walked into the main chamber, which was circular, they realised it went both down and upwards, with many, many platforms surrounding a series of glass-fronted cells. The middle of the chamber had some sort of water wheel spinning with a bird that looked rather like a naked chicken running as fast as it could. The wheel seemed to power something in the chamber itself. It was panting like it was utterly exhausted, yet it was somehow driven to continue— either unable or unwilling to give up.

"That's a _liderc!" _one of the Unspeakables gasped. "My old Master got one purely by accident. The egg just showed up one day and hatched. They'll do absolutely _anything _you ask of them, but if you don't have a task for them, they get a bit… homicidal. My Master ends up telling the liderc to guard things to keep it busy. One time she sent it off to find a mango in the middle of winter. It came back with this poor Muggle bloke with a crate of mangoes in his arms. Poor fellow had to be obliviated and sent back home."

Shattenjäger stared around the chamber. "What in Merlin's name is _that_?" he boggled as he saw the large draping tail of—something—cascading down from a platform above. Hundreds of cords came from the platform, weaving down to each individual room. The dull thrum of magic pulsed through each one.

_-Help me.-_

Everyone looked up immediately.

_-Please.-_

Hermione and Severus flew upwards the moment they were able to shake the shock off. Remus was hurriedly scrambling up the ramps behind them, Moody and Shattenjäger not far behind. Amelia barked orders to all of her Unspeakables, telling them to spread out and figure out what in Merlin's name was going on.

As the trio reached the huge platform above, they were overwhelmed with a wave of profound sadness.

_-Gone. Dead. Too late. Too late. All of them gone. Starvation. Disease. Thousands of moons of so much pain and loneliness.-_

Hermione and Severus fell to their knees at the great bird's head. Their hands reached out to soothe his feathers, their hands trembling with shared grief.

_-Please. Help me. Remove these chains that keep me here, and I will tell you how to return these trapped people to their rightful homes.-_

The trio looked to Amelia with such pain in their eyes that the elder witch solemnly nodded to them in assent.

Hermione, Severus, and Remus promptly scattered, using their magic to trace the magical chains and cut off the restrictive flow of magic that seemed to be infusing the metal. Minerva cradled the bird's head gently to her bosom as she very carefully sliced the metal collar off its neck with her wand.

As the large metal collar fell to the floor with a loud clank, the trapped bird shuddered and groaned, letting out a low screech. Lightning crackled from the bird's throat, zapping the chamber's sides as the air was saturated with ozone. One wing freed itself, then another. The bird rose up to its full height, but crumpled slightly.

_-Please. Water.-_

Remus held out his hands and cupped them while Severus cast Aguamenti into them, filling his hands with water. The giant bird placed his beak into the water, making it rapidly disappear. They repeated summoning water until the bird finally seemed to relax.

_-Thank you.-_

The bird turned its eyes to scan the room and the people gathered around it. _-Need a place to recover. Safe place. Away from here.-_ The bird stared into Remus 'eyes intently. -_Will go there. This garden. Safe?-_

Remus' eyes widened and he nodded. "It's always been safe for us. Master Barberry's garden is something of… a sanctuary for us all."

_-Believe you. Helped me. Help you now. People here trapped. Females are batteries for old man's abomination. Free them and you free the people. The room they are trapped in will disappear.- _ The bird took a few long breaths, eyes drifting closed. _-Some. Damaged. Far from home. Far from time. Thunderbird live forever. Protect soft, vulnerable, innocent. People. Here. Need help to— remember. Once remember, they too, can find home.-_

Minerva stroked the great bird's head, feeling more than a little drawn to ease its tortured mind and body_. _

_-Will await you in the safe place- _The bird told them after a while. _-Bring damaged to me there. Will help them.-_

Minerva nodded to the great bird. Its body was surrounded in blue energy and it disappeared at once as if it had not been there at all.

"I've never been so sad to be an Unspeakable," one of the younger Unspeakables said. "I've just seen a legendary thunderbird, and I can't tell anyone about it."

Amelia placed her hand on the young wizard's shoulder. "Come on, let's see who else we can help out of this blasted time prison."

* * *

There were over a hundred time-cells starting from the very bottom floor to the very top. The bottom floors seemed more stable, and the only ones in the cells were various different versions of Dumbledore himself. Yet, as the floors went up, the focus seemed to shift somewhat.

"Who is that?" Remus said as he looked into the haze of the room.

"Me," Severus said, staring at the tall, haggard-looking man with exceedingly pale skin, lank, greasy hair, and empty black eyes.

"Are you sure?" Remus said. "Look at all the scars."

The other Severus' robes were tattered and torn. Hundreds of jagged criss-crossing wounds and scars covered his chest and his back. On his left arm was emblazoned the skull and serpent that was only worn by Voldemort's most trusted minions.

"Death Eater," Remus whispered in shock.

Severus' eyes were dark. Flames flickered around his black eyes as his nails dug into his palm.

Remus stared into the cell beside it. His hand touched the glass with trepidation. "That's me."

Severus stared into the cell. It looked like the Great Hall or at least a piece of it. Two bodies lay side by side, hands entwined together in death. Remus— much older and severely scarred as well as obviously unhealthy— lay still in death. A woman with pink hair lay beside him. A young raven-haired wizard gazed down at them, his startling green eyes filled with deep emotion.

Cell after cell showed pieces of lives that were not their own, yet, they seemed somehow so terribly possible.

In one, there were students and faculty of Hogwarts gathered around the lifeless body of Albus Dumbledore— their wands were all pointed up to the sky, shining brightly in the swirling darkness.

Moody stood grimly in front of a shade of himself, only the Moody in the cell had no smile at all. He stood with a dark scowl that seemed permanently etched into his craggy face, and he had a strange magical eye that moved independently from his natural one. Amelia sat dressed in the deep purple robes of the Wizengamot, sitting surrounded in other witches and wizards looking down at a young boy sitting in a chair. Madam Umbridge stood smiling maliciously at a skinny woman with glasses so large that they made her look like some bizarre kind of stick insect. She seemed to be brandishing a paper in her hand like a weapon.

Hermione stood in front of one glass, tears streaming down her face. As Severus and Remus rushed to comfort her, they saw what lay within the glass. An older Severus lay bleeding out against a wall, his pale face staring blankly off into the distance as a giant snake lay coiled nearby, mouth open and huge fangs glistening, clearly poised to strike again.

Another room contained a battle-scarred Hermione, her curly hair cut ruthlessly short, looking to be roughly in her mid-thirties. She wore something that resembled Muggle battle fatigues and lay slumped over a broken log. Nearby, an ancient-looking Dumbledore was crumpled in a fetal ball near the body of a very dead werewolf.

Another held an older Severus staring down at the crumpled body of a young witch who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with bushy brown hair and brown eyes. She had the torn robes of a professor. His face was pressed into her voluminous hair as he cradled her, his face caught in mid-sob as her hand was pressed tenderly against his pale cheek. Blood was pooling thickly under them both.

Another room held Severus pointing a wand at Remus and Sirius in what might have been the shack, but the beautiful furniture and bookcases Minerva had made had been exchanged for dust and neglect. Three children were huddled together in a nearby corner, looking extremely frightened.

In another room a young Tom Riddle stood next to Professor Slughorn with a very sinister smile frozen on his face. Slughorn stared back at him with abject horror and fear writ large on his slack, jowly features.

In another room there was a darkened forest with the moon hanging full above. A snarling, tattered and scarred werewolf stood crouched with his pack of equally unhealthy-looking werewolves. The dead body of a slain werewolf lay in the mud. The distinctive tufted tail and scarred muzzle told them which werewolf was leading the pack: Tuft.

His eyes were glowing sickly with insanity and pain. There was no love and stability there. There was no compassion at all. There was only cold murder in his pitiless green eyes. Remus stared fixedly at the scene, his eyes glowing as Tuft rebelled against the scene before them. Severus and Hermione touched his shoulder, and Remus turned, looking painfully guilty over something he had never done.

Shattenjäger stared grimly into the glass of one cell where over fifty-some bodies of masters and Aurors lay in their dying throes. His best friend, Gilford Barberry stared with unseeing, dead eyes into the twisting nether as he lay sprawled on the ground. Shattenjäger pressed his forehead to the glass of the cell, his shoulders shaking with suppressed grief. Elrond snuggled up against him comfortingly, chirping sadly into the Auror's ear.

Amelia Bones' face was hardened in fury as she wove her wand around, casting something unfamiliar. Beams of light came streaking out of her wand and tagged every single suspended person trapped in the cells. "I had to mark them as unwilling time-travelers," she explained. "In case we find a way to release them so that they simply snap back into their time lines. The head of the Department of Mysteries needs to know that they didn't come here of their own free will."

The gathered nodded in agreement. "We need to get these people out of here quickly. Master Barberry has agreed to house as many as we need on his estate. We have emergency tents for the rest," Amelia explained. "I really hope it doesn't come to that. Whatever is powering this place is hidden insidiously, despite the thunderbird being obvious. Be careful, and if you find something, signal the others."

Everyone nodded in agreement and dispersed.

* * *

"I have an idea," Remus said, putting his hands on Hermione and Severus' shoulders.

Hermione and Severus looked at him with interest.

"I'm going to ask Tuft, well, you know, the wolf to help," Remus said. "I can feel him. Pacing inside. He wants to help."

"Will that even work, Remus?" Severus asked. "It's not even—"

Remus sighed. "I have to try. I can shift into my Animagus form and then let him out. You know he's better at scenting. I think he can help. I know— I _know _he can help."

Hermione nodded, waving over to Alastor. The senior Auror came over silently.

Hermione motioned her hand for him to come down lower so she could whisper privately into his ear.

Moody's eyebrow raised, and he grunted in assent, standing up to gesture to Shattenjäger. They whispered to each other for a few moments as Remus went down on all fours and shifted into a wolf.

Moody loosened his collar and gave Shattenjäger a look.

"You just want me to do the paperwork, Alastor," Shattenjäger muttered.

Moody snorted. "Want to join the club, Klaus? Easy. Get licked. Take a little nap. Wake up furry with a strange urge to chase rabbits."

Shattenjäger sighed gustily and waved Moody off.

Remus whined, his eyes already beginning to glow a bright gold. His muzzle shortened, and his tail grew a little fluffier on the end. Then, in a warm surge of magic, two black wolves and a larger sawdust-coloured wolf joined Tuft with a bunch of tail wagging, sniffing, and growling. Then, Tuft growled and immediately took off up the ramps, the other wolves hot on his heels.

The Unspeakables dodged out of the way, letting the wolves have free rein up and down the ramps. Tuft screeched to a halt, nose working furiously as he sniffed the brickwork. Hermione and Severus stuck their noses in too, whining. Moody growled, bounding back down the ramp and vigorously nipping at Shattenjäger's heels to get him moving. Amelia followed behind, looking a bit bemused at the sight.

Klaus knelt at the brickwork, moving his wand carefully over it. Amelia knelt next to him, her fingers touching the series of small holes that seemed to be drilled into the mortar.

"What are these?" Amelia asked.

Klaus ran his hand over them. "I feel a slight breeze. Air holes?"

Amelia pressed her wand against the bricks and drew a large rectangle. The bricks went transparent, transfigured into a clear glass window pane.

Klaus stared into the makeshift window. His eyes narrowed. "Tuft," he said levelly to the werewolf. "Find the rest of them."

The werewolf barked and tore off up the ramp, the other wolves following behind in hot pursuit.

Klaus yelled up the platforms. "Follow the wolves, mark every spot they stop at! Mark every last one! Move, people! _Mach schon! Beeilung!_"

* * *

It took almost an hour to find all of the carefully hidden caches, and it took another hour to extract what lay beyond the bricks. Twenty-four female phoenixes with varying colours lay crammed into each cache with magical cords binding them to the walls. Unspeakables took two hours to dismantle the wards that prevented the female phoenixes from being aware and another three to break down the wards that released them from the chamber that held them all captive. By the time it was done, Minerva had summoned the house-elves to bring in refreshments to keep the strained wizards and witches from collapsing from exhaustion.

When all of the wards had finally been dismantled, a group of house-elves appeared with fruit piled high on platters and began tenderly offering them to each grateful phoenix.

"Couldn't come here," Bubbly confessed.

"Blocked," Momsy said.

"Tried." Tully added.

"Always trying." Sassy sniffled.

"Couldn't talk about it." Kirby moaned.

The house elves all pulled on their ears, visibly distressed.

Minerva comforted them. "Headmaster Dumbledore swore you to secrecy, didn't he?"

"Couldn't talk to anyone who didn't already know about the place," Tully admitted, clearly still very agitated.

Minerva touched the elf's hands. "It's okay. You're helping now, yes?"

The elves nodded together in agreement.

"Thank you," Minerva thanked them.

The elves popped in and out, bringing everything from food to drink. They brought small blankets to cover the rescued phoenixes and keep the traumatized birds warm.

When all of the phoenixes were covered with a blanket and accepting food from the enthusiastic house-elves, Tuft seemed satisfied, and the pack magic that allowed them to transform into wolves slowly receded. Remus sat in his place, looking a little dazed, and Hermione, Severus, and Moody popped back into human form and sat down immediately, cradling their heads for a time.

"Let's get these phoenixes out of here! The sooner the better," Moody snapped. "I don't want to find out that some latent magic is still connecting them due to proximity. Carry them out beyond the anti-Apparition wards and take them to Barberry's estate. It will do them good to be around other phoenixes. Go! Move!"

Unspeakables and Aurors scrambled, gently cradling each phoenix in their arms and exiting the time rooms.

"Lock this room down!" Amelia ordered. "I want these cells monitored for any changes now that the main power sources have been removed."

Hermione and Severus, however, weren't moving. Each of them were kneeling by one of the female phoenixes. Severus by a smoky black phoenix with glowing sapphire eyes and Hermione by a sienna brown phoenix with bright copper eyes.

"Mum," they whispered together, burying their faces into the female phoenix' feathers, tears bathing the cooing hens in a stream of powerful emotion.

Suddenly, Hermione and Severus had transformed into their own phoenix forms, curling their necks around their phoenix mum's necks, their wings wrapped around them tightly and protectively.

Their bodies erupted in bright green flames as both Hermione and Severus let out a warble of reunification, having found the female that had once incubated their eggs and sang to them long before their eggs fell into the selfish hands of one Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

By the time Hermione and Severus felt secure enough to let their "mums" be transported out of the chamber, the effects of the female phoenixes being removed was starting to become unnervingly clear. Many of the time rooms were shimmering with instability, and the occupants of most of them had already slid back into whatever reality they had originally been time-napped from.

A team of Unspeakables had very carefully removed the liderc, water wheel and all, so that it never lost what it was doing and thus didn't go on a murderous rampage. Its removal, however, seemed to hasten the collapse of the time room's stability, and stonework began to crack and rain down from above.

Shattenjäger and Moody, who had sent Elrond and Amortentia to accompany the rescue squad to Barberry's estate, were currently phoenix-less, but both of them were handling the evacuation of the time rooms with admirable confidence and cool heads.

The lower levels disappeared rapidly, fading out with an audible _pop_. The highest floor seemed to be shimmering in and out of existence with an unstable vibration, so Amelia had the Unspeakables casting a number of spells to stabilise the floors to prevent them from imploding or collapsing. Magical supports appeared, channeled in by the Unspeakables, keeping the disappearing rooms from causing a chain collapse.

Hermione pressed her hand to the glass of the room containing a future Professor Snape as he lay in front of the striking Nagini. The room flickered, the snake disappeared, but Snape did not.

Hermione looked at the movement of the time sands and shook her head. "Something's wrong. This one isn't returning to his original time. I'm pulling him out!" She arched her wand, carving out the front glass. She flew in, wings beating against the blast of hot time-sand as it was sucked into the vortex, taking everything but the body of one Professor Snape. Hermione dug her claws into the back of Snape's tattered robes and pulled, flying him out of the open front window. She transformed back as she landed, cradling the gasping, bleeding Snape to her. The man's face was pale and tortured and he was bleeding heavily from the bite wounds on his neck.

"Severus!" Hermione called, watching Professor's Snape's tired black eyes widen in confusion.

Severus came rushing to her side, shaking a potion briskly in his hand as he put it to the older Snape's mouth. Hermione let her emotions surge, crying on Snape's neck, her tears bathing the torn flesh even as the potion pushed the poison out of the wounds and started to mend his skin.

"Remus!" Severus yelled, holding out his hand.

Remus ran up, passing him bandages, having already predicted what he wanted. Severus snatched them and quickly pressed them to the older Snape's wounds.

"My Lady wife," Severus hissed, holding out his hand.

Hermione interlocked her fingers with his as a deep green flame formed, spreading across their hands. They pressed the fire to Snape's chest, and the man's body arched as the shock blew through him.

Snape gasped, coughing, but his breathing had evened out, no longer sounding like the rattle of impending death. His black eyes stared up at them, open and vulnerable— his emotion raw and visible for all to see.

"We're moving you, Professor," Hermione said, her voice strangely calm. "You taught us how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death. We just put a stopper in yours, Professor. Stay with us, please, sir. I promise you I will give you the answers to all of your questions. Just not now. We have other people to save. Do you understand? Will you trust me?"

Professor Snape stared up into her face, his eyes shimmering. He nodded silently.

"Master!" Hermione called.

Minerva hurried up. "Oh! You poor dear," she gasped as she saw the enormous amount of blood saturating his tattered robes. "I'll take him to safety. Tend to the other rooms, and I'll return when I can." She transfigured the pane of glass Hermione had carved out of the window into a stretcher, levitated it and placed Professor Snape's body onto it.

Snape's black eyes stared into Hermione, his brows furrowing.

"I promised, professor," Hermione reminded him, gazing straight into the man's eyes. "I meant it."

Snape's eyes flicked from her to Severus, who was standing next to her and then to Remus, who was standing on her other side. He nodded as Minerva carried him away to safety.

The Unspeakables were yelling frantically as one of the upper rooms was rapidly flickering in and out, and the Trio immediately ran up to assist.

The room they were watching was a frozen tableau as fiendfyre was descending upon the various wounded masters that had seemingly never existed in Hermione Granger's timeline. Hermione frowned.

"They didn't exist because he'd already stolen them away before I was born. The masters had disappeared… the building consumed with flames. No bodies… no bodies because they were already stolen away." Hermione's eyes glowed bright orange, filled with fire. She waved her wand, tracing a portal through the glass. The panel abruptly fell forward with a loud crash of shattered glass.

Hermione, Severus, and Remus hurriedly levitated all of the bodies out of the room, just in the nick of time as the room collapsed on itself, transforming into particles of time-sand as it blew away in a rush of blistering heat. Rooms were popping in and out of existence more and more rapidly now. Bricks were crumbling and falling. Unspeakables were struggling to keep things solid long enough to evacuate the ones that were still trapped outside of their timestreams. Another team came in, assisting with the removal of the fallen masters from the time rooms.

Hermione watched with a sense of discombobulation as she saw an older version of her Granger self being carried out, unconscious, on a stretcher.

Rooms were collapsing everywhere. She heard strangled yelps coming from the room filled with werewolves being crushed beneath the falling trees and debris just before the room finally blinked out of existence.

Remus waved his arm at them, and Hermione and Severus hurried to attend. As they looked in, they saw the ground was disappearing from under the Professors Snape and Granger. They, however, seemed to locked out of their time stream. Hermione carved out the front window again, and the glass shattered as it fell to the floor. Bricks were falling more frequently now, and Aurors were yelling to the Unspeakables to evacuate.

Severus and Remus exchanged looks quickly and lunged in together, grabbing Snape and Granger by the robes and dragging them out of the room, getting them all clear just as it finally blinked out of existence entirely. As if to prove how quickly it had collapsed, the tail ends of the professors' robes were cut off when the room had abruptly vanished.

"_**Move**_!" cried Amelia. "Get out of there _**now**_!"

Hermione and Severus immediately burst into flames, their wings unfolding as they shifted into their phoenix forms. Remus took the injured Professors into his arms with a muttered apology as Severus and Hermione carried them off to the exit portal, dodging falling debris all the way as they left for safety.

Amelia quickly stepped out of the way as they blew past her. They tumbled out, releasing the two professors in an undignified pile as they landed, transforming back to their human forms.

There was a low, tortured groan like the final moments of a dying animal as the remains of the time room folded in on itself, all of its prisoners having been released back to where they belonged or taken away to safety after being locked out of the times they should have been returned to.

The portal on the wall shimmered and disappeared, reforming into a solid brick wall.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned, startled, and saw Professor Snape cradling the one she knew was Professor Granger.

"Don't you dare die on me, woman!" Snape hissed at her furiously. "You don't get to save my life from that miserable old goat and then just _die _on me!"

A wizard in green healer's robes rushed up, waving his wand as he came, and the trio made way for him, knowing that he needed to focus on what he was doing.

Professor Snape looked livid and ready to curse the healer off his companion until Granger's eyes opened and her hand touched his cheek. "You're such a protective, grouchy bastard, Severus," she whispered faintly.

Professor Snape pressed his forehead to hers and let out a sigh of great relief.

"I'm _your _protective, grouchy bastard," he grunted, his love for her clear in his glittering black eyes.

Granger's eyes fluttered closed again as exhaustion claimed her. "Yes. Yes you are."

* * *

"There is… no way back for me?" Professor Snape asked, staring into his cup of tea with dark, Occluded eyes.

Amelia sipped her tea and set her shoulders. "I'm afraid not, Professor Snape. The man who trapped you outside of your time took you at a very volatile moment. There is the possibility that someone saw you disappear, closing the window for you being able to return. Your disappearance from the time-line was fixed, so when the stasis on your imprisonment was lifted, you could not return."

Professor Snape winced, touching his throat where his wounds were healed but still tender. "I will admit that I was not in any position to think I would survive at all." He stared out the open window and saw a black phoenix with blue eyes and a dark sienna phoenix with copper eyes singing together out in the garden. A black phoenix sang back to the blue-eyed phoenix, and a earthen-toned phoenix with black wingtips sang back to the copper-eyed phoenix in frank adoration.

"What did this do to my timeline? My disappearance. I never got to… tell Potter the message."

Amelia flinched. "That I must leave to Lord and Lady Snape to tell. They have access to the time-stream that I do not."

Professor Snape made an odd face but nodded, seemingly realising that things were going to become even stranger before they started becoming less so.

The Apprentices Snape swept into the room from outside, casting their shoes off at the door. They bowed their head respectfully to Amelia and the displaced Professor Snape.

"Our apologies for leaving you," Severus said.

"We had… some catching up to do with our mums," Hermione finished with a smile.

Amelia shook her head and gestured for them to join them. "No need for apologies. They are… doing well?"

Hermione and Severus nodded. "Twister and Zabulon are showing them all of their favourite fruit bushes and trees. They're very happy to be free of that terrible place."

Amelia smiled. "I'm glad."

Hermione and Severus sat down in the nearby sofa. "I hope you are comfortable here," Hermione said to Professor Snape.

The professor nodded. "The library has been very therapeutic. The access to a laboratory brings me as sense of… familiarity."

Severus nodded to the worn and haggard-looking version of himself. "I'm sure you are wondering why you are here instead of… where you were?"

Professor Snape nodded, his eyes flickered with emotion, wriggling past his normally tight Occlumency.

"This timeline has a very different Albus Dumbledore than the one you are used to, I think," Severus explained. "The one we have here is obsessed with a greater good that only _he _can understand. He wishes to obtain all of the Hallows to become the Master of Death. He wishes, also, to be the Master of Time. The place you were imprisoned in was a testament to that desire."

"So far, he sounds like the same meddlesome old man to me," Professor Snape snarked.

Hermione forced a smile. "When our version of Dumbledore took you from your time, he chose a moment when someone or something witnessed your departure or caused something so drastic that the stamp of that moment cannot ever be changed, and that sealed the event in time, making it impossible for you to return."

"And this year is?" Snape asked.

"Nineteen hundred and seventy eight," Amelia told him.

Professor Snape winced in obvious pain. "You mustn't— I know this isn't my time, but you can't… " He clutched his left arm with his hand, scratching at it through his dark robe sleeve.

"The event that drove you and Lily Evans apart never happened, Professor," Hermione said solemnly.

Snape looked up at her, almost frantic, his eyes pleading.

Hermione grasped Severus' fingers and nodded. Severus pulled up his sleeve.

"I was never Marked, Professor Snape," Severus explained. "On the Hogwarts Express I and Lily made our very first friend: Hermione Ankaa Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Hermione didn't _care _about our faults. She didn't _care _that our family was dysfunctional. She didn't _care _that our blood wasn't pure. She introduced me to her family— Orion, her Lord Father, Walburga, her Lady Mother, her twin, Sirius, and her baby brother, Regulus. She taught me how to _fly_. Our dream, yes?"

Professor Snape's eyes went wide.

"She introduced me to a young werewolf in my very first year," Severus explained.

Professor Snape's face grew instantly angry.

Severus held up his hand, and much like it did for Orion Black, Professor Snape was instantly hesitant. "I watched him change in agony as he held Hermione gently in his arms, clutching a female phoenix to him like a teddy bear, like it was his only lifeline. As his body twisted, and he screamed, she did not fear him, and when I met the werewolf, I realised how terribly lonely he was. And I knew what loneliness was. _We _know what true loneliness is."

Professor Snape's face still seemed somewhat conflicted.

"We became friends, the three of us," Severus said. "Every moon cycle, we kept Remus company, and when he made the shift, we kept Tuft company. Our furry friend of the copious amounts of drool. And one day, he escaped thanks to the help of some Death Eaters, courtesy of a certain _**rat **_of our mutual acquaintance. Hermione and I had been injured and knocked unconscious by the Whomping Willow. They left us there to be killed or infected. Instead, Tuft tore off after them, forcing them to splinch themselves in their haste to escape. He returned, licked our wounds clean, and guarded us until dawn. That is the Remus of _our _world, Professor Snape. He is a kind and loyal friend and a compassionate and protective wolf."

Professor Snape had a pained expression on his face as he attempted to digest the differences he was hearing.

Hermione touched Severus' hand and he looked at her with a soft expression and nodded.

"Professor," Hermione said, getting his attention. "Think about your time, back when you were only a boy at Hogwarts. Did you ever have cases when the hostility between Gryffindor and Slytherin seemed almost _strange _or too inexplicable? Blood-purity? Was it really an issue until after so many hostile acts from one Gryffindor house were overlooked? How many times did young Lord Malfoy turn the other cheek until he had no more cheek left to turn? Did those that tormented you seem to do so for any concrete reason other than some childish, petty words exchanged on a train?"

Hermione paused, staring out the window. "It turned out that many students in our school had been dosed with Malevolent Mixture. Curiously, the majority of those affected were Gryffindors. All of it was smuggled into Hogwarts via purposefully tainted candy. Two of the most severely poisoned victims of it, so much so that they ended up being treated in St Mungo's for the toxic effects, were my twin brother, Sirius, and his best mate, James Potter."

Professor Snape's eyebrows furrowed.

"Strange cases of Muggle violence," Severus added. "Muggles against magical. Had it not been checked…"

"It would have done exactly what it did in my time," Snape answered, his face twisted with sickness and dawning horror. "War. I never ate the candies, save once, and they made me violently ill. Mulciber ate an entire box. He was never right in the head after that. Avery too. He _loved _those candies. Narcissa didn't want to eat any of them because she was worried about her weight, so she gave them Bellatrix because she knew Bella would _adore _them. She ate three boxes worth."

Severus and Hermione exchanged horrified glances.

"Have you ever wondered, Professor," Hermione began slowly. "Why a man who _knew _you had been spying on his interview with Trelawney… a man that you are now aware has no problem using Legilimency on his students and doesn't hesitate to use Obliviates either… why did he simply let you go that night?"

Severus seemed to be looking past the Professor, his eyes darting back and forth like he was watching a scene play out in his head. "Yes, you went straight to the Dark Lord and told him the prophecy, but why were you even _permitted _to? One of the most powerful wizards in the Wizarding world… just lets you toddle off to snitch on him to the Dark Lord, not even attempting to stop you?"

Professor Snape's mouth worked as though he were chewing hard on something. He stared into his hands and then looked up. "He _knew_. That bastard _knew… _all along. When I came back to beg him to save her… he knew I would do anything, swear to and do… anything, just to keep her safe."

Professor Snape's hand balled into a tight fist. "If that bastard hadn't already asked me to kill him—"

Hermione reached out to comfort him and hesitated, seemingly realising that Professor Snape was not _her _Severus. "May I… touch you?"

Professor Snape nodded numbly, his eyes filled with a mixture of deep pain and impotent fury.

Hermione closed her hands on his, her grey eyes holding the burning fires of the phoenix. Dark purple flames spread from her hands and over his skin, and Snape's eyes seemed to lose the mad, uncontrolled rage. "We will be here for you in a way you could not have in your own time. You are welcome to share our home until you are ready to decide how you wish to move on from here. We cannot fix what has already been done to you, but I and my Lord Husband will do what we can to help you understand the world we have here and its differences as well as its similarities."

"I have a student... had… a student named Hermione Granger," Professor Snape confessed. "She was an incessant hand-waver and insufferable little know-it-all. You remind me somewhat of her— no, not the insufferable part— she had an extraordinarily caring heart, one that was always so much more than anyone ever deserved. I always thought it was rather wasted on the likes of her dunderheaded… friends."

For a moment, his hands trembled and he clasped Hermione's hands tightly. "Thank you," he said awkwardly. "For allowing me in your home." He released her hands just as awkwardly, seemingly unused to any touch that did not harm him in some way. He scratched at the skin on his left arm furiously with his right hand—habitually or obsessively.

Severus caught his eyes and shook his head. "I think, Professor Snape, that you will find there is one great advantage to being here, now, even as we prepare to face the man that caused far more suffering than anyone ever believed possible."

Professor Snape looked up, eyes caught somewhere between hope and despair.

"If you will trust me, sir?" Severus asked his older and most definitely more abused self.

Snape looked ready to bolt at a moment's notice, his countenance torn between snapping angrily and a choked sob, but he finally nodded.

Severus slowly rolled up the professor's sleeve on his left arm, keeping eye contact with the professor to keep him from bolting or twisting away. "You see? The man who gave you your badge of shame doesn't truly exist here in this time. You can make a new life, a good life here. You can be the man you know in your heart you were destined to be."

Professor Snape's eyes flicked down to his left forearm. His eyes widened as a strangled sob came from deep within.

His arm was nothing but pristine, pale, unblemished skin.

The Mark was gone.

* * *

Barberry's orchard was on fire, but not the kind of fire that burned the trees to the ground. No, his orchard was full of phoenixes of all sizes, shapes, and colours. Shortly after being ported out of Hogwarts and getting the female phoenix survivors situated in recuperation nesting boxes, the skies became alive with male phoenixes reuniting with their long-lost mates. Excited Unspeakables were running about everywhere, chasing the phoenixes around with magical measuring tapes and taking photographs, scribes were frantically writing down blow-by-blow observations as they happened, and the other masters were asking their old friend, Gilford Barberry, if he was planning on retiring to raise phoenixes for the rest of his life.

"They are perfectly capable of raising themselves!" Gilford replied, laughing and waving his hands. Purple Tuit and raspberry-coloured Razz snuggled up to his neck, warbling their approval.

Moody, Shattenjäger, Pomona, Madam Hooch, Argus, Lucius, Ollivander, Rosmerta, and Meliton ended up joining the festivities as their excited phoenixes descended on their egg-mum with excited warbles, squawking, and chirps of delight. Then, just when things were starting to calm down a little, Fawkes appeared in the air above the orchard, letting out a scream as as his body was on fire with blazing bright white flames.

The sea green female phoenix with violet wing tips and deep purple eyes launched up into the air with a shrieking cry of her own. They met in the sky with joyous cries, locking their talons together as they spun faster and faster in the air, parting only when they looked like they were going to crash. They climbed up in the air and repeated the procedure, singing together a song of glorious reunification.

The jubilant celebration lasted upwards of an hour, with the two phoenixes chasing each other through the orchard and high into the air. By the time they landed on the nesting box that had been constructed for her recovery, the female phoenix and Fawkes landed together and set themselves on fire, necks entwined. Fawkes warbled, hocked up a very shiny, golden sphere, and crooned.

The sea green female phoenix immediately turned the egg lovingly with her beak, sang to it, and promptly rolled it under herself and sat on it.

"Well _that _didn't take long," Shattenjäger quipped, chuckling as he pet Elrond under the chin. "The others are at least waiting for their females to recuperate first."

Moody slid his eyes over to peer at Amortentia who was warbling her approval from his shoulder. "I think that _was_ recuperation, Klaus."

"I think her name is Audra," Hope said, calmly trimming a dead rose from the bush nearby.

The two Aurors just stared at her.

Hope's eyes went wide. "It just… came to me?"

"Are you _sure _you're Muggle?" Klaus asked the female werewolf.

Hope grinned. "I'm a woman. That automatically makes me mysterious."

Klaus laughed and slapped Alastor on the back. "Take her and make many beautiful babies, my friend. Be like Fawkes and Audra."

Alastor and Hope flushed bright red as a grinning Klaus glided off to socialise elsewhere.

Hope's eyes slid over to peer at her husband. "Didn't Fawkes and Audra have like twenty-some babies?"

Alastor's eyes widened comically.

Amortentia sang beautifully as if in encouragement.

Hope touched his lips with her index finger. "I wouldn't mind a small pack of our own, though I think we don't have to be quite as ambitious as a phoenix. Half that maybe?" She gazed into his eyes playfully and then winked.

Alastor pulled Hope close, silencing her with an enthusiastic kiss.

* * *

Barberry's estate was positively bustling with activity. The orchard was alive with phoenixes and they now had a thunderbird nesting in the middle of Barberry's garden as well. The not-so-small matter of the rescued time refugees had been confined to the Barberry and the Snape estates. The rescued masters were given quarters in the guest rooms at the estate. The rescued solitary Granger preferred to camp in a tent out on the property, stating that sleeping inside a building made her feel too confined. The solitary Professor Snape that had been taken from the shack had gratefully accepted Hermione and Severus' hospitality at their home in order to take in the scope of what had happened as well as to recover from his wounds. The Professors Snape (it turned out that the couple were married) gladly occupied the small guest cottage just outside of Barberry's gardens.

As the thunderbird had predicted, the time refugees were very much drawn to him, and his presence seemed to calm and restore them all far more than any healer possibly could. The thunderbird seemed to thrive on simple water and attention, desiring no food outside of the calm companionship of others.

Some of the mated phoenix pairs had disappeared back into the slipstreams to return to whatever place they were supposed to be, but some of them chose to remain in the orchards, deciding that Barberry and Snape's properties were an ideal place to raise and protect their future young.

Meliton and his two main lieutenants, Solon and Theron, took a great shine to the thunderbird. It seemed confirmed that there was more than just a shine when Meltion greeted the great bird as Echa. The great thunderbird had shared his name, and the centaur seemed more than happy to have found him.

Echa promised that when his job with healing those damaged by their time-hijacking was done, he would make his way to the forests of Melliton's herd and create a new nest. Amelia seemed happy that the great bird was not bent on revenge after how it had been cruelly treated, but it seemed that the bird's intrinsic nature was purely benevolent.

Echa allowed Amelia to put an identification band on his leg that kept him safe from officials thinking he was some mutant illegally-bred monster. The bird simply tucked Amelia under his wing and took a nap, seemingly unconcerned with such things but was perfectly agreeable to humour her. Amelia confessed after the nap that she had never felt so good in her life, and that ache at the base of her spine that had been plaguing her ever since she had taken a nasty curse to the back no longer bothered her.

Amelia had cleared new identities for for the time-refugees, and while their true identities were filed away in the archives at the DoM, they were free to choose whatever names felt right to them. Professors Hermione and Severus Snape took on the names Maya and Silvanus Prince. Professor Snape felt very attached to his name, so Hermione and Severus asked if he would mind being an elder Severus Snape, perhaps some magical ancestor of the Snape family. Severus commented that he'd always wanted an understanding uncle, and Professor Snape seemed very moved by the idea of being family to someone in this new world. He decided to change his name, in a token gesture, to Severin—close enough to his old name that he didn't feel as enough he was entirely abandoning it.

The older and more battle-weary Hermione Granger took on the name Jean Leontes, feeling as though she should hold on to the memory of her old life but wanting to make a future away from all of the pain and loss her original timeline had given her.

The masters, however, chose not to change anything at all, enjoying the chuckles as they called each other by the same names, causing no end of confusion. They placated the poor Amelia that they would choose something better when things had settled down. Currently, they stated, they were too caught up in the fact that they were alive to care about what they were going to call each other. Amelia had laughed and agreed.

Amelia had also cleared for each of the refugees to have a standing offer to come work as Unspeakables for the Department of Mysteries, knowing that would protect them from many of the inevitable questions simply popping up out of nowhere could cause. The newly-dubbed Severin Snape and Jean Leontes seemed more than willing to take her up on it.

Maya and Silvanus seemed somewhat disinclined, however, so Hermione, Severus, and their masters put their heads together and came up with a creative solution. Maya and Silvanus Prince became the main shop operators for the Trio's budding Apothecary business. Even better, neither Maya or Silvanus needed any sort of potions training, which was positively ideal. Barberry suggested that when both Maya and Silvanus retook their Mastery tests, which he figured would be nothing more than deciding on the best day, they could discuss a full partnership in the business so both Maya and Silvanus Prince would have an equal share and investment in the Apothecary.

As both Maya and Silvanus had no funds or properties of their own in their new time, the offer was far more than they could possibly have dreamed of, and the couple promptly jumped in feet first. Minerva helped them move into the empty upstairs flat and provided them with some furniture from her home she wasn't using now that she and Master Barberry were spending most of their time at his Estate. Soon, the Apothecary was bustling and bringing in even more business than it ever had before.

The victims of Dumbledore's time-rooms, at least, had, well... time to rest from their ordeal, leaving the Order to deal with the more pressing issue of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

* * *

"You say he was… cursed?" Severin Snape asked as he stood beside Severus and Hermione looking down at the unconscious Tobias Snape.

Severus nodded. "Dumbledore… tried to tamper with my magic. Mine, Hermione's and Remus'. He made us what we are— two phoenixes and a werewolf. He also drained the magic of one Argus Filch, turning him into a Squib."

Severin Snape gave his younger self a pained look.

Hermione looked into his face. "If you want to see it. You have permission."

Severin looked at her with both eyebrows raised in sheer disbelief.

Hermione smiled. "It's all right, Severin. If it makes you feel better, if you step out of bounds, my Lord husband will hex you into the next century with nothing but your birthday suit on."

The elder Snape just stared at her.

"I'm kidding," Hermione said with a smile. She ribbed Severus gently with her elbow. "He usually stops at a week."

Severus glared at his wife.

Hermione blushed, brushing her head across his chest like a lint roller. She looked up. "Go ahead, Severin. I give you my permission. My vision of your time is clearer. Severus' vision of mine is clearer. I'm afraid if you want a clear glimpse of the atrocities done to me, you'll need to look into his mind instead."

Severin swallowed hard and gently placed his fingers across her face, looking into her eyes as he whispered, "Legilimens."

* * *

_I'm sorry, Professor Granger. I wish I had the answers to tell you what it could have been if I had once had a true friend like you. Alas, as a portrait, I made exceedingly horrible comfort in company._

* * *

_Welcome to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, my chick._

* * *

_I wish Hermione Granger had never existed!_

* * *

_Ron! No! What have you done?!_

* * *

_I see no difference._

* * *

_Remember this potion well, Professor Granger. In life, did not finish it in time to ease the pain of Lupin. In truth, I was too angry. Too unforgiving._

* * *

_Help her! She's burning! Help her, please! Please— _

* * *

_I would court you Hermione Ankaa Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. My friend. My equal. Say that you will have me… All that have… all of it is yours. Please, stay with me._

* * *

_A large timber wolf bounded across the moors, a large black wolf in case. She was chasing behind. Wind was blowing through her fur. The moon was full. A young witch and her child were walking the lonely path to Hogsmeade. The large timber wolf skidded to a halt, tail up, ears perked._

_The black wolf in front of her barked, whining._

_The timber wolf wagged his tail and whuffed, tearing back into the forest, tail held high. The two black wolves chasing after, leaving the woman and her child unaware they were even being watched._

* * *

_Sirius Black lay on bed in the Hogwarts hospital wing, pale and clearly unconscious. A slender pair of feminine hands were wrapped around Sirius'. _

"_Brother. Canis. Come back to me. The mixture is out of your system now. It can't hurt you anymore. Canis, my brother. Sirius… please."_

* * *

_"Look," James said with a sigh. "I was a git. I know I did horrible things to you both. I'm ashamed of it, because that means somewhere inside me, I was always capable of such things, and that scares me. It scares me because my parents taught me better. It scares me because I don't want to be known as the horrible git that stands on other people and laughs. If I were to have a child… I don't want them to know their father was such a horrible person. I don't want the Legacy of Potter to end with me being the victim of some stupid potion. You're a Pureblood, Black. You know how our Legacy is drilled into us from birth."_

_"There are so many things I don't even remember doing, but the list is long. My parents read it to me as they tried to decide whether to pull me out of school and send me to America to study… or Australia. They actually considered Australia. They said an ex-prison colony would be a suitable place for such despicable behaviour." _

_James looked grim as he looked into Hermione's face and then Severus'. "I'm sorry for what I did. I am. I don't want this thing that is between us to be my Legacy. Sirius said if it wasn't for you, your mother would have disowned him for being sorted into Gryffindor, and while I think that's extreme, I know what it's like to be expected to be something. My father was Gryffindor. I think if I hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, he would have been so disappointed. That's so much worse— seeing the disappointment in your parent's eyes."_

* * *

_Lily looked up at Severus with clear remorse in her green eyes. "I really am sorry, Sev," she whispered._

_The dark-clad wizard nodded his head slowly. *"The stupid neither forgive nor forget, the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget." He sighed deeply. "I know you are sorry, Lily, but sorry only fixes so much."_

_Lily closed her eyes. "It's a start, isn't it?"_

_Severus' impenetrable dark eyes stared into her, seeming to bore into her soul. "It is," he said after a while, "a start."_

* * *

_"This is my offer to you, children," Barberry said with a kind smile. "Minerva and I will take you under wing as our combined apprentices which will last until you obtain your Mastery with the Boards. Until then, it will be our combined duty to insure you are taught the skills you need to pass your mundane exams, oversee your test outs, and as due to any apprentice, teach you the speciality skills we masters like to keep out of circulation for the common rabble whose only interest is to pass. It will be your job, as formal apprentices, and well, as Miss Black already knows, to yield to our judgement, learn from what we teach you, not question until it is time for questions, learn the difference when that is, and allow us to protect you on your path to greatness. It will require trust, both on our part to you and your part to us. You must trust that the instructions we give you are for your safety and that we will look out for you, but we must also be able to trust that you will respect the sanctity of our positions and not abuse our trust."_

_All three students looked excitedly at each other. Not only were they being offered formal apprenticeship with the combined knowledge of Minerva McGonagall and Gilford Barberry, but they were being offered it together. They would not have to be parted in their studies. Minerva, they knew they could trust, but her trust in Master Barberry told them all they needed to know._

_"We accept your offer, Master Barberry," they chimed together._

* * *

_Two very familiar boys were meditating in the forest, attempting to reach some state of dubious inner peace as a very large grizzly bear walked up to them and very carefully positioned himself in front of one young Sirius Black._

_Two terrified, half-transformed boys, came tearing out of the forest, their trousers sporting rather large wet spots; clearly both boys had soiled themselves when they lost control of their bladders out of sheer terror. They slammed into each other. They stepped on each other. They slammed into trees, among other things, and scrambled over each other to flee straight back to Hogwarts._

_Meanwhile the grizzly shambled casually behind, lazily stepping over the fallen brush._

_The grizzly walked out of the edge of the stone fence and sat down next to a stone wall where a familiar grey tabby reached out her paw to sternly bop the bear over the nose._

_The bear lowed softly, pressing his head against the tabby in appeasement._

_A large timber wolf came bouncing out of the forest to plop himself down next to the bear, his front legs surrounded the grizzly's bulk in an almost-hug._

_The tabby reached over and sternly bopped the wolf on the nose too._

_Meanwhile, a phoenix and a Bateleur eagle cackled birdishly from the trees, laughing their raucous bird-calls as their heads swung high and low._

* * *

_"There, there, little one," a tall, dark-haired man with a prominent aquiline nose said as he patted the baby over his shoulder. The baby burped softly. "Ha! You drink like a fish, my little Severus. You're going to grow up big and strong if you keep eating like that."_

_"Tobias?" a woman's voice called from the hall._

_"Up here, my love," Tobias answered back. "Just tucking in our little guy into bed."_

_A young woman came into the room and wrapped her arm around Tobias' waist. Tobias smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Eileen, you should be resting. I said I would take care of him tonight. Tomorrow, when you have slept, everything will be better."_

_"It's already better," she complained, gazing up at him with love._

_Tobias smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. "He's going to be a wizard, huh?" he said with amusement. "Pointed hat and a wand?"_

_Eileen smiled. "I was never too keen on the pointed hats, but the wand, yes."_

_Tobias laughed. "The first day I saw you, I knew you were special. It wasn't until later I realised why."_

_"My magic?"_

_Tobias pressed his lips to her nose. "You gave me a chance, woman."_

_Eileen grinned at him._

_"You be sure to keep that account aside for him," Tobias said. "Mother always said to keep a little away each day so your children could always go to school."_

_Eileen nodded._

_Tobias looked thoughtful. "Do you ever… regret staying with me? Giving up that world of magic?"_

_Eileen shook her head. "I'm with you, Tobias. It's what I want. Severus will have a kind and loving father. What more could I ask for?"_

_"Some bloke with a wand?" Tobias quipped, eyebrow raising._

_Eileen laughed. "I don't regret it, Tobias. I love you."_

_Tobias looked down at her fondly, his black eyes sparkling with emotion. "I love you too."_

_Severus squirmed in his arms, and Tobias lay him down in the crib on his back. "There you go, little man," Tobias said with affection. "Sleep for now, and mummy will open the wet bar in the morning."_

_"Tobias!"_

_The dark-haired man laughed, pressing his finger to his lips to hush her._

_Eileen looked affronted and then amused._

_"Come, let's get some sleep before the little guy decides he wants seconds." He leaned down and gave his wife a tender kiss, brushing his thumb against her cheek._

_The couple shuffled off down the hallway._

* * *

_Severus cried._

_"Hey, little man," Tobias called from the door. "I forgot to give you your— __**WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?**__"_

_Albus dropped the time-turner in his haste, spinning around. "Pax Vobis!"_

_A green spell zinged out of Albus' wand and smacked into Tobias's forehead. Tobias went flying against the far wall, cracking his skull against the drywall with a thud._

_"Tobias?" Frantic footsteps were coming._

_Albus turned around to pick up his time-turner and his fingers passed right through it. No! Dammit, no! Time sand was leaking out of the egg and pouring into baby Severus' magical wounds._

_Albus Dumbledore disappeared._

_Eileen hurried to Tobias' side. "Tobias! Tobias! Are you okay? What happened?"_

_Tobias groaned._

_Eileen cradled him, whispering the few healing spells she knew that didn't require a wand._

_Tobias' eyes shot open, his black eyes hardening with hate. "Get your hands off me, you freakish bitch!" He backhanded her, struggling to stand up._

_Eileen gasped, holding her hand to her stinging cheek. "Tobias?"_

_Tobias' mouth turned into a sneer. "You disgust me. Saddled with you and freakish child. A freakish child from a freakish woman! A whore." Tobias stormed out of the room. Minutes later, she heard the clash of the liquor cabinet that he had sealed saying he would keep it as a reminder of the sins of his father and what alcohol did to a family. She could smell the stink of whisky._

_"Tobias?" Eileen whimpered, tears coming down her face as her hands trembled._

* * *

_I love you. My lady. My wife._

* * *

_Can you catch me, my Lord husband?_

_Always._

* * *

Severin Snape pulled his hand away from Hermione's face, his black eyes full of emotion. "I'm sorry, I—I saw more than I should have."

Hermione shook her head. "I gave you permission. I knew that sometimes the path to what you want to see is lined with memories you were not expecting. I am sorry if some of them… hurt you."

Severin shook his head as if to clear it. "Did… every time line?"

Severus sighed. "Not every time line, but many, yes."

"The spell changes. The reasons," Hermione clarified, "but the end result is that he is interrupted by a protective father, and that father is injured by magic."

"And we grow up with an abusive, alcoholic father who, one day, kills our mother," Severin said, his fist clenching.

Severin looked down at the unconscious Tobias Snape. "I never thought I would feel anything but hatred for him," he said after a while. He closed his eyes. "Thank you."

Hermione and Severus nodded.

"You deserve to know the truth of this world and even the truth of your own, Professor," Hermione said.

"Did you know the Unspeakables wish to give that name to me as my callsign?" Severin chuckled, amused. "The Professor. Oddly, I am permitted to tell you two anything I wish."

Severus laughed at that. "You can't keep a secret from a phoenix forever."

"Eventually, we _will _find out," Hermione said with a smile.

"We would be your friends, Professor," Severus said, extending his hand. "If you would allow us to be."

Severin stared at the extended hand and very slowly put his hand in his. "I accept."

Hermione put her hand on top of theirs, and there was a flash of purple flames.

"We are glad of it."

Severin smiled wickedly. "I'm to be partnered with Jean. You'll never guess her callsign."

Severus and Hermione tilted their heads curiously. Question marks practically floated above their heads.

"Bookworm."

Hermione grinned from ear-to-ear.

* * *

"Evening, Martha," the orderly greeted as he passed the desk. He signed in on the log with a protracted yawn.

"Long day, Sal?" Martha chuckled. "How are all the baby salamanders at home?"

Sal chuckled. "Hungry as always, Martha. You know the drill."

"I know my one baby girl is quite enough for me, Sal," Martha muttered. "William and I were thinking of trying to find a house-elf or eighteen just for the little menace."

Sal laughed. "Eighteen seems a bit drastic, my friend."

"Psh, you haven't tried to wrangle Effie," Martha snorted. "She'll make your five amphibians look like a walk in the park."

Sal tapped his nose at her. "Tell you what, Martha. Next time you and Will need a night alone to sleep or just go out and hear yourselves think, let me know. I'll watch Effie for you."

"You can't mean that," Martha boggled.

"I do," Sal laughed. "Morgan and I have a good routine going, and we have two house elves that dearly love to dote on everyone."

"I may take you up on that," Martha said in all seriousness.

"Wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it, m'dear," Sal told her, throwing on his uniform overcoat.

"Hey, Sal," Martha added, waving her hand.

Sal approached the counter and leaned in.

"Lord and Lady Snape were here today, just a floor down," Martha whispered furtively.

"Oh, ho?" Sal asked, one eyebrow arching with interest. "Did they turn flowers into doves and make bedpans dance?"

Martha almost spit out the tea she was drinking. "Pst, where do you get that sarcasm? No, they were visiting the chronic care unit with some other guy. Tall, pale, looked like death warmed over and left to go bad."

Sal made a face. "You're _such _a shameless gossip, Martha."

Martha sighed. "They were visiting that Muggle bloke. Snape, Tobias. The one they brought in because someone cursed him so long ago they are worried that the effects may be permanent."

"There is nothing so out of unusual in wanting to make sure someone is getting better, Martha."

Martha shrugged. "It just seems odd they would come to Mungo's."

"Because there are so many _other _Wizarding hospitals in England?" Sal chuckled.

"You know what I mean, you git!" Martha huffed. "Shouldn't they be out there, blessing babies or whatever it is they do?"

Sal's expression soured. "You know, the reason those two even have to come here is because of that barmy old coot right here," Sal said, pointing to the room behind him. "And from what I've heard from the healers working on him, he's done some really horrible things. They won't say exactly _what _he did when they know I'm around, but he has an Auror standing guard at the door 24/7 for the duration. That's all I need to know."

Martha shook her head. "No way, Sal. There is no way that Albus Dumbledore is a criminal. The guard is just there to protect him. He's a bloody hero, Sal! He defeated Grindelwald!"

Sal looked sad as he reached over to pick up a stack of fresh towels after placing his rowan wand in his back pocket. "Sometimes even heroes fall, Martha. They're only human, just like the rest of us."

Martha shook her head adamantly. "I don't want to believe it, Sal. I _can't _believe it. I grew up on stories of the great Albus Dumbledore."

Sal nodded grimly. "I know, Martha. I did too. I just… People aren't brought in front of the Wizengamot for small things, not usually. That's where he's supposed to go the moment he's deemed stable enough to travel."

Martha closed her eyes. "You're right, Sal. I'm sorry. It's just— he's been my hero for longer than those two young apprentices have been alive."

Sal put his hand on Martha's. "I'll tell you something I haven't told anyone else. A while back, I was taking my little girl out with her mum. Grandmum and Grandpa had the rest for while. We were out in Diagon Alley, just going from shop to shop. Little Vikki, she's always running off, getting in trouble, or going around hugging random people. My Rosemary swears she's going to try and hug a Death Eater sometime and ask them how their day was."

Sal ran his hand in his hair. "Vikki got away from us, and she ran up to two people— a witch and a wizard— dressed in all black. They looked like Death Eaters. I tell you, my blood went cold. My Vikki, she ran up to them, holding up a little thing she made. She was so proud. Rosemary and I were running. We thought.. we thought she'd meet her end by some black-clad murderous bastard from Knockturn Alley."

"She gave them a flower. She had made it bloom. She was _so _proud of it," Sal remembered. "Then, this pale-skinned man dressed in black reached down to the ground and picked up a stick. He transformed it into an orb filled with these shimmering, swirling rainbow lights that spun like a top. And he handed it to her. They sent Vikki back to us with these great smiles on their faces. Genuine, honest-to-goodness smiles. We suddenly realised that we had misjudged them because of how they looked. Then we realised just who they were a bit after. We saw the pins, the embroidery… and we _knew _who they were. I've never felt so bloody stupid in my life for misjudging someone like that."

Sal tilted his head, remembering that day. "It was Apprentices Snape and Black, before they formed the new House of Snape. They gave my baby girl a toy that she prizes so much that she places on a shelf above her bed to light her room at night."

"When I think of Albus Dumbledore, the hero," Sal mused. "I wonder, if I were to meet _him _in Diagon Alley. Would he have done what they did? Would he have given my baby girl something magical like that? Would he have even noticed she was there? I tell you what. My baby girl will remember them until the day she dies for that one, small thing. That is what she will remember— not a story of deeds done, but memory of a true event that happened to her. That… that is what makes a _hero_. It is an ordinary act made somehow extraordinary. It is a small, spinning orb of swirling lights made from a simple stick of wood that will be passed on from her to her child to their child and so on. Maybe he would have, Martha. All I know is that they did, not him. I'd like to think after working here for so long that I'd know what true kindness really is. The man in that room is not kind, Martha. I'm not sure what I sense, but it is definitely _not _kindness. It's not anything good, I wager."

Martha smiled and nodded. "Why do you work here, Sal? Why aren't you off being a leader or a sage?"

Sal grinned at her. "Someone has to take care of these people, Martha. There are the healers, yes, but when the healers sleep or move on to the next patient it's down to us. One of hundreds of patients— I'm there to listen to their woes, learn about their families, and tuck them in at night. I hold the bucket as they hurl, and I give them a bath when they cannot do it themselves. _Someone _has to."

"You're a better man than I," Martha said.

Sal had a lopsided grin on his face. "I _am _a man," he said cheerfully. "So I should hope so." He bounced off to start his rounds, a grinning smile on his face.

Martha cradled her head in her palm, her eyes following her cheery co-worker with fond amusement. "Git."

* * *

It was so easy to reach over and snatch the wand out of the orderly's back pocket as he was helping to shift him into a new position in his bed. All he had to do was fake an act that had become so typical during his stay here: rock back and forth and stare blithely at the wall as though it was utterly fascinating and somehow held all of the wondrous secrets of the universe.

He knew the healers were starting to see through his Occlumency. He had left a hundred layers of disordered thoughts that he _wanted _them to see, and that usually kept them sufficiently busy. One of the healers, though, was starting to correctly suspect that the layers were just a clever form of subterfuge. Albus decided it was past time to get out of this place.

He had felt the destruction of his time sanctuary, which left him burning with suppressed fury. The collapse had taken down the last of his wards. They had dismantled his carefully hidden time room — his last and greatest reservoir of captured knowledge and history unlike anything in the world. They had set free his thunderbird… rescued all of his female phoenixes. They had released his cache of living knowledge back to their respective times.

Once he got out of this place, he would go and liberate his true wand, take care of that annoying Black, no... Snape witch, which would neatly get rid of that equally annoying Snape boy, which would also nicely take care of Lupin, and maybe that would even take Master Barberry out of the running too. Pity it meant Minerva might be affected as well, as she had always been a worthy pawn, but in the end it wouldn't really matter. In the end, _everyone _would respect what he had done and the sacrifices he had made for the betterment of Wizarding society.

Albus pointed the wand at the orderly's head and silently cast his spell.

The orderly slumped soundlessly over the hospital bed.

"Hrm," Albus grunted. "Sorry about that…" He rolled the orderly over. "Sal."

He studied his face and gathered his magic. The wand was fighting him, but Albus wasn't taking no for an answer. It was probably unicorn hair or some other core that was fanatically loyal. It didn't have to last forever. It just had to last long enough for him to get his Elder Wand back. He pointed the wand towards himself and cast one of his favourite glamour spells, then he pointed the wand at Sal and gave him an entirely new look.

Picking up the flowerpot full of bright pink begonias, he made up the bed to look used and proceeded to walk right out the door.

The Auror looked into the room as he passed to make sure "Albus" was peacefully sleeping in the bed. "Evening, Sal, everything okay in there?"

Albus grunted something unintelligible, making harsh sounds like he had a frog stuck in his throat.

"Don't give whatever you have to me, mate," the Auror said. "You need to stop letting your kids gift you with their colds."

Albus just nodded sheepishly at him and continued his walk towards the desk where he put down the pot of begonias.

The woman at the desk looked happy to see him.

"Thanks, Sal," she laughed. "That better not be a bedpan this time."

Albus blinked in confusion. Sal _normally _gave the woman transfigured flowers? He arched his eyebrows, touching his throat to mime his throat was sore and kept walking down the hallway.

Martha tilted her head and stared down the hallway. It wasn't like Sal not to have some sort of retort that he knew some bedpans better than most people. She looked into the open door to Dumbledore's room.

Something… wasn't quite right.

Martha sat down and began to scribble her paperwork. No, Albus Dumbledore was a hero.

Sal always said something silly to her as he passed the desk. He never missed an opportunity. Not _once_. Hell, he'd even do it when he was half-dead on his feet with some hideous cold that he'd caught from his kids and sounded like a brassed-off Horntail dragon was trying to crawl its way out of his throat.

She scribbled away at her paperwork. She was just being paranoid. Right?

A half hour later, she simply couldn't take it anymore. She stood up and walked towards the Auror. "Hey, Stewart. I know this sounds stupid and paranoid and all that, but… could you please check on Mr Dumbledore? Make sure everything is okay?"

"Something wrong, Martha?" the Auror asked, his eyes flickering with concern.

"I know you just changed shifts and all, and it's probably nothing, "Martha said. "Paranoia, but… something was _off _about Sal earlier. You know Sal, always the joker, no matter what? I'd just feel a lot better if I knew for sure there was nothing to worry about."

Stewart shrugged. "No problem. It's been a dull night so far anyway from the reports." The Auror pulled out his wand and went into the room.

Martha sighed. "Sal has me all paranoid now. I'm going to have to chew him out."

She took in a deep breath and turned resolutely back to the desk.

_FWOOP__**!**_

Salamander Dawkins appeared draped over the desk like a half-drowned cat, as naked as the day he was born, just as Stewart's skunk Patronus went zinging down the hall with the Auror himself sprinting close behind.

Within minutes, the entire hospital was on red alert and grim-faced Aurors were swarming the halls. The message was crystal clear: Albus Dumbledore had escaped from St Mungo's.

* * *

_**Beloved Patriarch of the Noble and Most Ancient**_

_**House of Black Falls Tragically Ill**_

_Orion Black has fallen ill to an unknown wasting disease, according to healer reports. He was transferred back to his home after it was determined that nothing further could be done for him at St Mungo's. _

_Rumour has it that his concerned children are taking him to a herd of centaur in Scotland to do a rite of cleansing that is rumoured to cure all but the most dire of medical conditions. Whether the ritual will work effectively on a non-centaur is sadly unknown. The centaur are apparently willing to give it a try as a token gesture of peaceful coexistence between the centaur and humans, as it is well-known that they successfully brokered a peace treaty back during the time of former Hogwarts Headmaster, Armando Dippet._

_The centaurs believe that their ritual must occur when the skies are clear so that the stars and planets may bless their circle. Where this circle is or how they bless it is unknown. No previous instance of a human being healed by the centaur has ever been recorded._

* * *

"You're going to be well again very soon, father," Hermione said tenderly as she soothed his forehead with a dampened linen cloth.

Orion coughed harshly, his pale, sweaty skin glistening in the spattering of moonlight through the shadowed trees.

"Don't worry about me, my chick," Orion rasped, his fingers gently clasped around her hand. "I have not given up the fight just yet."

"You are not _allowed _to give up, father," Hermione said, squeezing his hand. "Not you. Not ever you."

Orion stared up serenely into his daughter's loving grey eyes. "Will you forbid me to die, my daughter? Will you stand in front of Death and refuse his call for me?"

"If I must," Hermione said, brushing Orion's salt and pepper hair back from his face.

Orion coughed and wheezed, gasping for breath. "I will try."

"The others left early to prepare the circle," Hermione explained. "I will take you there."

Orion's panting breaths were shallow and frequent, but he nodded feebly in understanding.

Hermione pointed her wand at the stretcher and made it rise in the air. She stood behind it and put her hands on the poles and gently guided it forward and down the marked path between the trees.

As she trudged slowly forward, her eyes locked on Orion, she did not notice the faint shimmer of movement in an almost-human shape following close behind her with silent footsteps.

* * *

Albus watched intently as the centaur and their human friends dispersed from the circle after layering Orion Black with wreaths made of herbs and leaves. They chanted something, waving bundles of burning sweet grasses and other fragrant herbs. They lit ceramic bowls placed around the circle and deposited offerings of small stones in many different colours within them.

Meliton gestured to the starry night sky, waving a fan made of a bird's wing and blew a whistle crafted from of some sort of animal bone that sounded like a combination of the cry of an eagle and the screech of an owl. Then, when all the chanting came to an end, he dispatched the gathered to various points in the forest to gain the blessing of the proper stars and planets, leaving the former Hermione Black tending to her ill father alone.

Hermione patted gently at his face with a cloth dipped in cool water as she sat quietly by his side.

Almost an hour passed, and only the sounds of owls hooting in the forest interspersed with the screeches of nightjars broke through the constant thrumming hum of crickets. He moved closer and the damnable crickets were onto him, their songs freezing as they somehow detected him.

He realised his silencing spell had unfortunately worn off, and he quickly recast both the silencing charm and the disillusioning spell. The crickets started to sing again, and he moved to test their detection. The crickets sang merrily on, and Hermione didn't even seem to notice the pause of a minute or so before.

He was going to have to make his move very soon, before her loyal friends and allies came back to offer their support. Orion was definitely in no condition to assist in the defense of anything at this point, which left just his daughter, clearly worried to distraction about her gravely ill father. All he had to do was to silently glide over there, get in sufficient range to put her under a close contact Imperius to make certain she couldn't offer any resistance, and then order her to take him to where and when he needed to go. The other phoenixes, they were just simple beasts. They couldn't _understand _where he wanted, needed to go. She would be different. She could take him straight to Ariana without all the fuss and hassle of gathering eggs.

He stepped into the outer circle and made his way to her, stepping over the piled rocks as to not give away his presence. He kept his wand trained on her as he approached. She was slumped next to her sick father, nice and oblivious.

Excellent.

Orion coughed, and Hermione straightened. Albus froze.

After patting his face a few more times with a cloth, she sighed, her head slumping once more.

Albus crossed over another line of rocks and stood behind her, pressing his wand firmly to the base of her neck. "Imperio."

She swayed back and forth for a few seconds.

"Now, my dear," Albus purred. "You will take me to July 15th, 1891. Mould-on-the-Wold. There will be a stone house with blue tile instead of red. Dense green hedges around the back garden. There will be a wrought iron gate foolishly left open and red rose bushes along the pathway. Now, let's go."

Hermione stood up slowly with strange, awkward movements. She turned around slowly, her eyes glowing completely gold like shining suns. "No."

She took a step back and snapped her fingers together as the wards under his feet suddenly flared into life. "Checkmate, Headmaster."

* * *

Aurors came pouring out of the woods, flanked by centaurs. Two young centaur pulled Orion out of the circle without damaging the markings. They poured a liquid down his throat from a deerskin bladder. Orion's pale face gained colour once again, and he started to look perfectly healthy once more.

The centaur warriors levelled and aimed their drawn bows at Dumbledore. Aurors pointed their wands at him, and grim, determined faces spread amongst all of them. Albus looked around, seeing both humans, animals, and beasts surrounding the clearing. He was well and truly trapped.

"I fear I have you at a bit of a disadvantage," Albus said, his hands holding tightly to his wand. "Though if you all toddle off, I'm sure we can come to a less violent conclusion for this most unpleasant and distasteful affair."

"You _cannot _be serious!" James exclaimed. "Do you not _see _how many wands and bows are pointed at you?"

"Ah, well, there is that," Albus said, stroking his long nose thoughtfully. "However, you seem to think I'm going to go quietly, and I assure you that I most definitely will not. You see, once I leave here I'll just slip back in time, knowing exactly which persons are here and I will deal with you each accordingly."

"How _arrogant _can you possibly be?" Regulus wondered aloud, utterly astonished by the old man's sheer gall.

Albus just shrugged. "I don't have to be arrogant, young man. I just have to have the right tools. There are certain tools that pretty much guarantee one victory. For me, at least. I will admit to being slightly annoyed to be caught here for a time. But I have things to do. Far more important things than battling the lot of you."

"Why not just battle _me_, then, Headmaster?" Hermione asked, walking into the circle. "It's what you wanted, isn't it? To be rid of me?"

Albus stared at her. "You are fairly talented, my girl," he said. "But I have quite a bit more experience accrued than you."

Hermione tugged at her collar, letting her cape fall to the ground. "Perhaps, but there is a part of you, isn't there? That wonders how I survived my childhood, hrm? Perhaps, you wonder if whatever power filled in the cracks is finite? That if you push just hard enough, I might crack in two and spread my atoms unto the world."

Albus scowled. "You were never meant to remain magical," he rumbled. "_Ariana_ was meant to be magical. She was meant to be great, and she _will _be."

"And why is my magic any less mine?" Hermione asked, raising a curious brow.

"I've seen your other aspects, Hermione _Granger_," Albus said dangerously. "You are nothing but a mere shadow. A Muggle-born witch that should never have existed here. In this time. In this place."

Hermione flicked her wand over herself, and suddenly her features were surrounded by the bushiest brown hair possible. Brown eyes stared out from a frame of wild brown curls. Somewhat buck-teeth protruded from her lips. "Does this sight please you, Professor Dumbledore?" She thrust her hand up in the air, waving it. "Can I help you, please, Professor? It's Harry isn't it? You want me to help Harry defeat Lord Voldemort!"

"It's _Ariana_!" Dumbledore spat. "It has nothing to do with a Merlin-forsaken boy who had the luck to have a mother willing to die for him!"

"A boy you set up to _die_!" Hermione spat. "You set it all into motion. You set Gryffindor against Slytherin so Slytherin would be so busy hating you for all the wrong reasons. You set Gryffindor against Slytherin so you could favour them and make them believe you were on their side. You set a gang of misguided wizards to torture a young Slytherin boy, intending to keep him isolated and friendless. Fifty points to Gryffindor, Professor. You swore Severus to secrecy when your pet Gryffindor, Sirius Black, tried to have him killed by Remus during his transformation! Five points to Gryffindor! Fifty points from Slytherin for falling into a trap!"

"You purposely let a boy you _knew _had overheard the prophecy run back to Voldemort and thus endanger his own childhood friend," Hermione continued. "You then let him grovel before you in the hopes that the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore would save his beloved friend while you let your prized Gryffindors think they were safe in letting Peter Pettigrew keep their deepest secrets. Yet, for some reason, the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore didn't volunteer to keep their secret safe himself, despite his being the Headmaster to the safest place in magical Britain next to Gringott's."

"_Why_?" Hermione asked. "Did keeping a tortured, guilt-ridden man at your beck and call help you convince Harry that he could only trust a select few but never the one man who loved his mother enough to watch over him despite his hatred for her choice in husband? The man who tortured him every single day of his school career? The man you encouraged and moulded into a monster by never once punishing him? Yet you had no trouble at all punishing Slytherin, did you, Headmaster?"

"He was no innocent, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Or did you conveniently _forget _that he created the Sectumsempra spell? Did you forget he took the Dark Mark and only came crawling back when he found that the friend he had called a Mudblood was in danger? Do you like to forget that he was a horrible person whose only redeeming characteristic was a love for the girl he might as well have stuck a knife in himself?"

Hermione stared at Dumbledore in true amazement. "I trusted you. I believed in you. Harry believed in you. Minerva believed in you."

"That is the way it should be! They _should _believe in me. I will make this world into a better place. I will make this a world where no magical child will ever be beaten just for being magical," Albus hissed.

"No, instead you will build your world on the children you have drained of their magical essence!" Hermione retorted.

"It was necessary."

"Necessary? How?"

"If you'd just gotten married after the war, none of this would have happened!" Dumbledore accused. "There would be no Hermione Ankaa Black! There would be no infestations of meddling phoenixes. There would be no House of Snape. Sirius Black would have been the only redeemable member of a wretched, bigoted, fanatical Pureblood family. The Malfoys would have fallen into shame along with the Crabbes and Goyles, the Parkinsons and Notts. The Potters would have all died heroes! People would whisper their names in awe and reverence! And I would be free to change the world into a place suitable for Ariana in the aftermath!"

Hermione looked completely horrified. "Do you even _hear _yourself? Do those sound like the words of a truly benevolent man? Did you _see _your future self put on the ring of Marvolo Gaunt and end up being cursed to death? Did you _see _yourself beg Severus to kill you so Draco Malfoy wouldn't shatter his soul? What of _Severus' _soul, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Hermione. "I see now. You are the keystone of this horrible arch. I _will _fight you, whether you are Hermione Granger or Hermione of the soon-to-be extinct House of Snape, because once _you _are gone, so will all of this come to its proper end."

Hermione raised her head to the sky and then back downward, her grey eyes filled with sadness. She pointed her wand to the sky and then pressed the tip to her lips. She bowed her head, her grey eyes never leaving Albus. "May Magic bless the winner."

Dumbledore levelled his wand at her. "May Magic fail you just when you need it the most."

* * *

Hermione's hair flickered in the rushing waves of heat as the fiery spell filled the clearing and threatened to set the surrounding trees on fire. Hermione gestured with her hands and slashed through it with her wand, sending huge blasts of water spraying in all directions to douse the flames. Blood dripped down one side of her neck where a slicing hex had slightly nicked her, and her right arm was half-transformed into the talon-tipped paw of some unknown beast.

Dumbledore, however, was not completely unscathed. His forehead was bleeding, half his robes had been slashed from his body and his head was sporting a fine set of goat horns from when Hermione had reflected some kind of forced transfiguration back upon the aged wizard.

Albus rained razor-sharp ice shards down upon her, and Hermione protected herself with a shield of flame. She rolled to the right and slashed out with her half-transformed arm, her dark black claws arching outward, causing Albus to whip his head back in shock. He growled, throwing down some sort of heavy metal bell, and Hermione barely managed to dodge it as it came crashing down.

Scalding hot water cannoned directly at Hermione's face, and she bent out of the way, clawing the ground and drawing her hand across it, flinging it at Dumbledore. The dirt and grass burst into fine, yet sticky sandy particles, getting into his eyes, nose, and mouth, giving her a breather with which to reinforce her shields. She spat out a chain of smaller, faster curses, but only one connected, knocking Dumbledore to the side. The rest pinged harmlessly off of his erected shields.

Dumbledore arched his wand, sending a swarm of tiny beetles that latched onto her clothes, skin, and hair. They covered her like squirming tar and crawled into her mouth as she tried to incant her spells.

Hermione slammed her hand down to the ground, causing a flash of fire to consume her body, burning the insects off of her as she breathed out fire like an angry Horntail dragon. Then fire spewed from her mouth in a torrent of flame, hitting Dumbledore head on.

As the fire faded and Hermione coughed, Dumbledore sent a cloud of angry canaries at her face, causing her to shield her face with her arm. He sent a curse her way, but Hermione was on the move as she protected her face, having learned her defense strategies from Shattenjäger and Moody exceedingly well.

Hermione pulled a fan out from her robes and swatted the magical birds away, set the fan on fire, and flung it outwards, causing it to burst into pieces and rain down on Albus.

Dumbledore winced as a few pieces of the flaming shrapnel hit their mark, and he used his wand to yank them free and send them streaking back at Hermione. She raised her arm, causing her robes to glow. The metal bounced off her sleeve and fell harmlessly to the ground. She quickly retaliated with a spell that exploded right in front of Dumbledore, covering him from head-to-toe in a shower of dragon dung.

As Dumbledore fumed and choked, Hermione hissed out another spell and the ground under Albus liquified, attempting to suck him under, but he cast a freezing spell to halt the progress and merely stepped out of it, but leaving one of his boots behind. He glared at Hermione, waving his wand in a complicated pattern and causing the limbs of the trees around Hermione to swat at her, much like the Whomping Willow. She screeched out an Immobulus and slithered out between the branches just in time to dodge a curse that barely missed her head.

Hermione's hair was sizzling where the spell had struck her a glancing blow, Her hair began to writhe like the serpentine tresses of Medusa, and Hermione silently screamed, her wand rapidly tracing a strange pattern in the air. Albus' hair suddenly grew wildly and his own beard consumed his face and tried to strangle him like homicidal kudzu.

Hermione stood up, favouring one leg as her half-transformed arm spasmed. Dark claws scratched her side idly as she sent out a rapid chain of spells, knocking Dumbledore arse-over-teakettle as he tried to pry the hair off his face so he could breathe. The spells knocked him down, even as he managed to remove all the hair from his body, including his own eyebrows, with a hastily muttered depilatory spell. Dumbledore's pale, white skin, having not been exposed to sun in all the years it been covered by a beard, shone in the moonlight, and exposed a very, very smug smile.

"Game over, young Hermione," he said with a dry chuckle, his fingers tracing the sides of his wand where tendrils of her hair were wrapped tightly around it. He whispered a spell against his wand, and Hermione froze in place, unable to move. Her eyes, frozen in place, stared back at the Headmaster with uncontained fury.

Albus pointed his wand at her serenely, mouthing "Goodbye."

Dumbledore sent a putrid-looking green beam zinging towards the paralysed Hermione, and it hit her squarely in the center of her chest. Hermione's body seemed to shimmer for a moment, and then her skin began to shrivel in on itself. Blackness spread across her skin, crawling up her arms and over her body, causing her flesh to harden and crack. The blackness slowly shifted to a charcoal grey as ash-like flakes began to peel off to topmost layers as the curse ran its course. Her body jerked as charred flesh dropped from bone, and the bone itself turned to ash.

"No!" Regulus and Sirius cried together, moving toward the circle to cross over it to meet Dumbledore together, if need be, to take the twisted old bastard out.

Alastor grabbed Sirius with his arm, forcing him back as Orion did the same for Regulus. Orion's face was twisted in pain.

"Now, we wouldn't want to end up like Hermione and her hidden mate, now would we?" Albus clucked mockingly. "As if I'd not _notice _that Mr Snape was missing from the equation and the crowd? Leaving his mate all alone and unsupported? Pity he was standing so close to her and had the spell hit him as well, hrm?"

Sirius and Regulus struggled to get at him, their faces twisted in profound agony. Remus wasn't home at the moment, and Tuft was tending the fires. He snarled, leaping towards Dumbledore as fury dripped from his mouth in the form of foamy drool. His lips were pulled back from his ivory teeth as his eyes glowed fearfully with golden hatred. The werewolf howled in fury, and made a huge leap, his jaws open wide to rip Albus's head clear off of his shoulders.

Frost began to crawl across the ground under Albus' feet. The cold was overwhelming and breath-stealing. It curled around him like a great cat made of ice, rapidly sapping the heat from his aged body. He stumbled back from the leaping werewolf, pulling out his wand to blast him backwards, but the werewolf had been frozen in mid-leap, jaws open and flecks of foam suspended in mid air.

Crackles of crawling frost and spreading ice like the movement of a great glacier resonated in the air. His breath froze instantly as it left him, hanging in the air in great, white plumes. His fingers burned as the cold stole away the very heat from his blood. The tips of his fingers grew a dusky blue with the lack of circulation. His eyes felt as though they were sticking to his eyelids. His tears were freezing around his eyes. It was cold— so much _more _than merely cold.

Albus looked around him, thinking they were channeling some sort of freezing spell upon him en masse, but the gathered were all frozen in place, their wands still aimed squarely at him. The centaurs had their bows trained upon him as well, but none of them were moving either. All of them appeared to have been suspended in a moment. Literally frozen in time.

Shadows slowly oozed across the moonlit ground, looking for all the world like the stretch of incredibly elongated fingers. The shadows were moving, unlike the people. They slithered across the ground, merging with each other as often as they parted and changed course. Whispers sounded all around him, like the sound of thousand children trying hard to keep the same secret.

"_Allllllllbussss…_." they whispered.

Albus felt the tug of a hundred small hands on his tattered robes, and a cold, cold touch of small fingers on his skin. He cried out in fear and loathing, casting a circle of fire around himself in hopes of banishing both the cold and the eerie sensations.

The shadows were coagulating into a large pool of inky black nothingness in the center of the circle. They slammed into each other, rising up like two currents meeting each other. A dark form rose up from the blackness, rising like a leviathan from the depths of the ocean. Bleached bones formed under the rivulets of blackness, reaching outwards as they formed into fingers, arm bones, and ribs. A pale, unearthly skull pushed its way out of the blackness and elongated fangs formed out of the empty sockets of the jawbones. Long, curving horns curled back around the almost-glowing, bestial skull, even as a living cloak of darkness slithered across the bones to form a wispy, ethereal covering that somewhat resembled a wizard's robes.

As the figure moved towards him, it was accompanied by the sound of creaking wood coming from the most ancient of trees around them. Bony fingers extended to the ground and plucked a small black stone out from the ash and placed it in its empty right eye socket. They picked up the soft filmy, drapery of a cloak also buried in the ash, which the figure swirled around itself. The blackness moved like water over parched dirt, covering the cloak completely with its pitch black light-devouring properties.

The figure walked towards him, and Albus brandished his elder wand.

"You cannot have it," Albus rasped, his voice caught between bravado and unnatural fear.

The figure said nothing, instead, it reached down into the ash and plucked out a very familiar wand that looked so very like Albus' own. He set the wand into his hand, replacing the empty spot where his index finger would have been. The wand shimmered and transformed into bone, rejoining its master at long last.

The figure cracked its neck, standing taller, seeming to regain something in the return of its most beloved objects. Bitter cold radiated off the figure's body as an awesome aura of power seemed to radiate off the figure's body.

"_Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."_

Dark blue flames flickered in the skull's eye sockets. They grew brighter, and brighter, until they became the radiant, cerulean blue of a cloudless sky.

It was at that very moment that Albus Dumbledore rediscovered the true meaning of _fear_.

* * *

"Good evening, Albus," Death's voice sang like the beat of a raven's wing in the dead of night. "I hear you have been… _dying _to meet me."

Albus looked around him. Everyone and everything else was frozen in place.

"Hnn," Death intoned. "You needn't worry about them. I wanted this to be a... private party. After all, you were so very adamant about becoming the master of me."

"_**I**_ have the Elder Wand," Albus said, his hand shaking as he brandished the article in mention. "And _**I**_ did not summon you."

Death's skeletal hands, desiccated flesh clinging to the bones as almost a token gesture, creaked open as he pointed at Albus' wand. "You have _an _elder wand, yes."

Albus' brows furrowed. "No, I saw into his mind! It is real! It is _**the **_Elder Wand!"

Death ran a finger bone along his teeth as one might run a finger across their lips. "That man believed it was," Death's voice oozed velvet venom. "There was no intentional falsehood there. As it turns out, my lovely little bird friends found the real one, just as they rustled up some loyal allies and found _my _cloak, which was never meant to be worn by so many generations of mortals. They found _my _stone too, which merely summons half-living shades that can only torment the living and drive them slowly to madness."

Death's burning eyes suddenly flared. "Long ago, Albus, I met three brothers attempting to cross a great chasm, in a time when this forest was but a field of yet infertile dirt. It was there," Death recalled, pointing one bony finger towards Hogwarts. "On this very land that they walked in their arrogance, believing themselves immune to the fates of other men, and there that they did cross my chasm, bridging over two worlds that were not yet ready to be bridged," Death's voice rattled like that of one whose last breaths were escaping. "So they did let Magic into the world— not the kind you learn with your petty wands and complicated spells— but _living _Magic. The sort of thing that lives with its own ideas of how things are. It spread across the entire world, deciding which lines to bless and which lines to leave— to evolve— and perhaps to be blessed at a future time."

Death's skull face lowered but a few centimeters from Albus' paling face. "My Hallows were stolen from me as I lay stunned by the sheer power of the release of so much Magic into the world at one time. The objects were never given freely, so they always came with a curse. The wise person would know they were never meant to be used by mortals, yet it seems the world is far more full of fools than the wise. For surely, had they been wise or at least considerate, those that came after the three brothers of unquestionable stupidity would have thought to return my Hallows, and I would have given them a most gracious boon the likes of which only the gods can fathom. Yet, not one did."

Death's eyes blazed. "I suppose _one _family did realise the wand was never meant for the likes of those who wished to use it, so they did hide it away— away from themselves as much as others. For that service, I think, I will pass them by until their time has been long or until their suffering is greater than their will to live."

Death's elongated fangs glistened with the black trails of liquid decay. "When I lay stunned and incomplete, with my Hallows stolen from me," Death uttered, "only one beast in all the world came to me and offered me succor. Can you guess what creature in all the world had enough compassion in its heart to attend to Death?"

His skeletal hands dug through the glowing cinders and ash, fire licking across the deceptively frail-looking bones that somehow remained together despite having lost the tendons that would have held them in place in life. Bleached and polished bone extended to gently cup around three small sootballs. Death's skeletal face, which seemed like both decay and the utter lack of it, stared down at the dark blobs cradled in his bony hands. Bringing them to his face, his jaw slowly opened, and air moved across the surface, blowing a fine coating of ash away from a sooty black chick with equally black eyes, an earthen-toned chick with steel grey eyes, and a red and orange chick with a distinctively arched feather crest on its head.

"Did you know, Albus, that a phoenix is a bird that cherishes life like no other," Death's velvety, yet venomous voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Do you know _why _that is?"

"No?" Death used one finger bone to scratch under each chick's downy chin. "I thought not. Phoenixes remember _every _death they have had to suffer. Every single one. They cherish life because they never lose sight of what it is to live… _and _to die. They live every moment like the next death will be their final one, when my hands will close around them at long last and bring them back Home."

"Tell me, Albus. Do _you _remember… every death you have caused, every life you have ever taken?" Death asked, tilting his head slightly, his blank sockets seeming to narrow slightly as he stared deep into Dumbledore's wide, terrified eyes. "Or do you only remember those times you have cheated _me _instead?"

"You've forgotten them all, haven't you?" Death said caustically. His fingers gently stroked the tiny chicks in his hand. Then Death pressed his skeletal face up to Albus' so closely that the foul, lingering odor of dessicated flesh was ripe in the old wizard's nostrils. "I think perhaps it is time for you to remember _exactly _what you have done. _Everything _you have done."

Death's tattered flesh pulled back from his skeletal head in an unnerving, menacing smile.

"Far be it from me to deprive them of a body," Death purred. "That's okay. You don't _need _a body where you're going, Albus."

Death grasped Dumbledore's head and strangely placed a tender kiss upon his forehead.

"I will know you when all others have forgotten your name, Albus," Death whispered, his voice lowering further into a sibilant caress.

He pressed a skeletal kiss upon his right cheek. "I will be the only friend who holds the key to your release."

Death pinned Albus's head between his palms as he pressed his skeletal mouth to Dumbledore's left cheek. "There will be no equal to you in my wrath, this I swear."

"There will be no place you can ever hide from me, my _dear_ Albus," Death hissed. "For all who see you, in whatever form you try to take, they will see the Mark of my Kiss upon you, and they will know exactly what you are and what you have done, Albus. They will all take their turn at kicking you through the slipstreams of eternity until you feel true penance for every single soul you have ever wronged."

Death's eye flames went completely black. "Tell, me Albus. Do you even remember _one_?"

With a low growl, Death's skeletal and fanged maw opened. "Give me a kiss, lover."

The sound of Albus' scream went on and on long after his body had slumped gracelessly to the ground, his eyes glassy and horror-filled, seemingly locked on some nightmare vision far, far away.

The lights were still on, but no one was home. No one would ever be coming home again.

* * *

As Voldemort Apparated into the clearing, drawn to the powerful and unshielded magical signature of his most hated magical adversary of all time, his feet made distinct crunching sounds as he walked on the frost-laden ground towards the body of Albus Dumbledore.

A handful of his remaining Death Eaters had Apparated in with him, all looking extremely nervous as they saw the array of centaurs, Aurors, and one _extremely _pissed-off werewolf suspended in mid-air, seemingly frozen in time.

One of the Death Eaters cautiously reached out to touch one of the figures and screamed as his body was frozen in place instantly, trapped within whatever magic had made the others as they were. When another Death Eater tried to use a spell to free his comrade, the magic froze in place, traveling up the stream back to the wand and the wizard that bore it, freezing him in place as well.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, his lips curled into a sneer of pure disgust.

The moment he saw Dumbledore's body staring blankly into space, the stars reflected in his glazed pupils, his sneer turned into something strangely out-of-place on his serpentine mask of unnatural hatred. Voldemort knelt at Dumbledore's side, his hand going to his neck to check for a pulse. He waved his wand over him, staring into the old wizard's hazy eyes.

Voldemort closed his red, slitted eyes, a soft hiss of breath escaping his lips. "_Omnia finem habent_, Albus. Everything… has an end. I need the final hand to be mine. I am content to know that the end has come at last."

Voldemort looked up and saw a brilliant light haloing the bright and flying blonde curls of a slight female figure.

"Ariana," he whispered.

He stared up into the vast sky, his hands clutched to his chest. His skin was peeling away as ash, floating away by an sudden cold breeze, yet there was no agony in his expression. Instead, there was only peace. His hand fell to his side, his wand dropping to the frozen earth.

The Death Eaters staggered, clutching their arms and their chests, falling on top of each other in a haphazard pile as they collapsed to the ground.

Voldemort— the last clinging hatred of the once Tom Riddle— drifted off into the oblivion of the night sky.

Just then, a small, oval locket fell onto the tattered robes of Albus Dumbledore, opening its latch as it bounced.

Tom Riddle and Ariana Dumbledore smiled out of the two sides of the locket, radiant grins on each of their faces. For a moment, it seemed as though the colour become somehow more radiant, their faces more real, just before the locket closed again with a soft, almost inaudible click.

* * *

Three phoenix chicks stared adoringly to the wizened and tanned face of Death. His warm, peridot eyes seemed to smile at them, shifting from a dark emerald to a light spring green. The chicks peeped and flapped their wings excitedly as he told them ancient tales of both wisdom and foolishness, creation and destruction, and the cycle of life and death.

His warm, ancient hands caressed their feathered backs.

"Once upon a time, when the land was young and the oceans vast, there were two worlds: the lands of Magic and the lands of Creation. At first glance, there were was very little difference, but in one world there was only that which could be seen and understood. In the other, it was all that could be believed and felt without having ever seen."

"These two worlds were separated by a great chasm, and even those with wings were not strong enough to span the gap. This chasm separated Magic from Creation, allowing each world to evolve slowly at its own pace, that eventually, the lands would meet together when both were ready."

"There were two sets of guards to the lands. At one side, three brothers were given the task to watch over the land and that which was known from mingling with the unknown. On the other side, there was Death, who took those who had evolved past their worlds to the lands of Home, where both Magic and Creation lived side by side in harmony."

"One day, the three brothers decided that they had outgrown their task, and that those they protected were somehow lacking. They decided to craft a bridge across the chasm with their harnessed magic— magic that had slowly leaked into their lives from across the space. it was magic they guarded jealously, for they were the only ones who could master its mysteries."

"They left behind their people and their land to travel the expanse, so very proud of themselves and arrogant in their knowledge. They connected the two worlds together, but what they did not know is that the Magic that gathered on the other side was very eager to escape— but it was not something that could be controlled by any mortal being. "

"The moment the bridge was made, the Magic escaped, blowing past the guard and leaving those that had once sheltered in its singular embrace all alone. The Magic both blessed and cursed the lands of Creation, for Creation was a land of what could be seen and understood, and much of what was Magic was unseen and mysterious. While some creatures embraced the Magic and became a part of it, others seemed to shun it, refusing to merge with something as foreign and strange as what Magic was."

"From such unions came the magical beasts, once so ordinary, made extraordinary. Then came the mortals who would see and manipulate the currents of magic. The strongest of these formed a number of blessed families, whose blood traced back to that very moment when Magic swept the Earth and became a part of it. It did not happen all at once. Sometimes Magic was fickle, and it chose those when it wanted, but those that it blessed were fated to remember the connection to the very first union of Magic and mortal."

"The guard on that far Magical shore, lay on his back, trampled by the stomping of countless magical feet as they escaped the lands that had been their home— broken and unable to move."

"It was there that the three brothers did find him. Angered that the magic had left them without something to bring home, they decided to take from the trampled guard three things: one eye, which allowed one to see the shades of the departed, a fingerbone, which became the Elder Wand, and his cloak, which allowed safe passage away from the gaze of all who would look for them."

"The brothers all bickered over which item would be theirs, but when the guard began to stir, they fled, taking their pieces and leaving back across the bridge to the lands of Creation, where Magic now joined within it.

"The guard awoke, deprived of three very important pieces of himself, feeling very violated and alone. He cried out for help, but he was a guard, and no one wished to greet him with kindness, for his job was to take them away to a land apart from their most cherished loved ones. No one came."

"Days passed, and the guard grew bitter. His wounds healed slowly, but they were such gaping things. He cried out to the Forces of Magic and Creation, demanding to know what good came to reward his service, when all he had was taken away and no one would answer his call for help."

"But, when night fell, the rumbles of a giant beast came from the land of Magic. A beast unlike any beast— a lion and a goat's head side by side on dragon's body and a serpent's tail— did come out of the gloom of the lands of Magic. His sides were heaving as though he had traveled a long, long way. He did lay beside the guard and share his warmth."

"As night fell, beacons of light came flying across the chasm from the lands of Creation. Magic-blessed birds cast in fire landed all around him. They did set themselves aflame to bring him warmth in the cold, and unlike so many others, they did not flinch from Death's touch."

"And so it is, even now, long from the time when such wounds were first inflicted, the chimaera and the phoenix are only creatures of this world that Death trusts when all other lights go out. The chimaera will forever be the one beast in all the world that a phoenix will always know how to find. The chimaera is the only beast in all the world that will love a phoenix as its own cubs. They are one the same, united at the side of Death. The chimaera will share its lair with the phoenix, and the phoenix will make its nest near the chimaera. But both will lay down beside Death as equals and friends."

As the three fluffy chicks warbled and peeped, flapping their wings excitedly at the story, Orion stepped out of the frozen crowd, flames running across his body. The three chicks sang joyously as the chimaera's head lowered to nuzzle them, and Death's hand alighted gently upon his head between his ears.

Death lowered his head and gently kissed each chick. He gathered them up and placed them carefully in Orion's open mouth, and he closed his teeth around them like a fanged basket. Death smiled and lowered his head to kiss Orion on the forehead.

"You have done me a great service, my friends," he whispered. "When you wake, you will have a little something to remember me by."

"Sleep now," Death crooned. "For it is my time to watch over you."

Orion staggered, releasing the fluffy chicks onto his paws as he lay down, eyes closing. The three phoenix chicks cuddled up against his chest, eyes growing heavy.

Death's hands, changing back and forth between skeletal and non, gently caressed the chimaera and the three phoenix chicks. "_True friendship consists not in the multitude of friends but in their worth and value._"

After many minutes had passed, Death stood up and glided across the circle. He eyed the frozen Death Eaters with some curiosity. With a detached sniff, he moved them to be right in front of the highly pissed-off frozen werewolf and lined them up like dominoes.

Death leaned in to their ears. "If it's any consolation. You'd be dead in a few minutes anyway thanks to your binding yourself to a hate-born construct bent on revenge. This way will be much faster. Trust me on that." He patted the two frozen Death Eaters on the head as one would pat a puppy. "I will see you both soon."

He stared at their arm for a moment and ripped their sleeves down to expose their Dark Mark. "Wouldn't want our furry knight to be accused of attacking an innocent, now would we? Hrm? No? Well, it's not like you have any choice in the matter."

His feet raised into the air as his body hovered, and he walked out into the dark of the night, disappearing without a trace as those who had been frozen in the clearing suddenly thawed all at once.

* * *

_**Missing a Friend? They Might Be a Death Eater**_

_Have you done a wellness check on your friends lately, my friends? Might want to. _

_There have been about a hundred reports of sudden, inexplicable deaths in the last few days in the aftermath of what has been touted as the most well-staged and baited trap for St Mungo's escapee, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore., who has recently come under investigation for a multitude of very serious crimes, most of which are reportedly related to Dumbledore's apparent penchant for illegal time travel. _

_After being lured to a special dueling circle out in the forests of Scotland, former Headmaster Dumbledore attempted to Imperius Apprentice Hermione Snape into helping him with his dastardly plan to alter time for what Dumbledore has previously described as the "greater good"._

_Newly-appointed Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is hosting a virtual army of Aurors and special forces charged with mopping up the aftermath of the battle that occurred in the forests adjacent to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the commotion, however, the new Headmistress has informed us that school will be opening on time this August, and the new faculty is more than prepared to handle the influx of new and returning students._

_According to a few baffled Aurors, they suspect that Mr Dumbledore got caught in some sort of unstable time bomb of his that accidentally went off and caught him in the blast. By the time the crowd thawed out, Mr Dumbledore was found lying flat on his back, staring off into space and nothing seems able to rouse him._

_The two Apprentices Snape and their familiar, Fawkes, had been damaged during the battle, and many thought them killed, but upon the frozen wake-up call, the three were discovered to be very much alive, to the enormous relief of all._

_Two Death Eaters had somehow made their way to the area while many were frozen, and they were not discovered until the spell wore off. Thankfully, Auror Animagus Remus Lupin had the situation well under control and took them out immediately after the thawing._

"_Thank Merlin," Sirius Black commented to our reporters._

"_I'm going to stick my head up a beehive and start licking," Regulus Black sighed to one reporter. "I thought I'd lost both my sister and my brother-in-law in one fell swoop."_

_The Wizengamot pronounced Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore guilty of more than one hundred counts of unauthorised time-travel, fifteen counts of known bribery and unauthorised Obliviation, countless accounts of Legilimency, innumerable counts related to the abuse, unlawful imprisonment and forcible enslavement of a protected magical species, over one hundred counts of kidnapping and unlawful magical imprisonment, over a score of failures to report magical mischief and magical assault amongst the Hogwarts student body, the magical assault of Argus Filch and Tobias Snape, the likely murders of his sister Ariana Dumbledore and her fiancé, Tom Riddle, the framing and assault that caused permanent mental damage to Gellert Grindelwald, over thirty counts of illegal tampering with phoenix eggs, the mental subjugation and implantation of illegal obsessions into Aberforth Dumbledore, four counts of the purposeful draining of magic from of a magical child, use of a highly unstable and dangerous de-aging potion on a wizard and having them masquerade as a student at Hogwarts, failure to report a Death Eater to the Aurors, two counts of the forced transfiguration of a person into an animal, the insidious mental manipulation of Hogwarts student and minor Lily Evans, leading to the near-deaths of Apprentice Hermione Black (now Snape), Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Master Gilford Barberry, Master Minerva McGonagall, Orion Black, Sirius Black, Regulus Black, and James Potter, the deliberate magical influence of Gringott's officials for his own personal gain, the enslavement of a protected magical bird under the guise of a familiar bond, and countless other infractions that remain undisclosed under the seal of the Department of Mysteries. _

_Albus Dumbledore's body, which has been dubbed a time-anomaly, has been transferred into a specially-constructed magical containment cell that makes anyone imprisoned within unable to utilize any form of magic. His cell has been placed in a highly-warded and restricted section within the Department of Mysteries until such time as he can serve out the remainder of his life sentence in Azkaban or he dies of natural causes, whichever comes first._

_As for the attacks by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, all reports of such activity have inexplicably ceased. The discovery of several dead persons bearing the Dark Mark on their left forearms seems to point to a grim end for those with close ties to the Dark Lord Voldemort._

* * *

_Ik heb gehoord van weerwolven, maar deze weerpoedel uitbraak is totaal iets anders_!" = I've heard of werewolves, but this werepoodle infestation is entirely new!"

Ben blij toe dat ik er niet eentje ben = _I'm really, really glad it wasn't me._

_Boontje komt om zijn loontje = What comes around….. goes around_

Really really glad = blij toe

_What comes around goes around = Boontje komt om zijn loontje_

"True friendship consists not in the multitude of friends, but in their worth and value." is a quote from Ben Jonson, English playwright, poet, actor, and literary critic from the 17th century.

* * *

Dutch Healer _Jansen-Steur _ was changed to Healer Sikkenga due to some unfortunate and unknown to me real life connections to a very horrible man in the Dutch news. My sincere apologies for that one! This is what I get for writing fan fiction instead of the news more often! Thanks to loves **vampires 02** and **goudentientje** for bringing this up to me.


	47. Chapter 47 Собой остаться дольше

_**Quote for the day: **_ _SneakyB: I dunno. I've looked in a lot of clams today, and all I have seen is giant tongue._

**A/N: **Snow emergency here. I've been doing a lot of _sneeuwruimen_. (Imagine a raven with a pint-sized shovel trying to tackle a gargantuan snow drift.)

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose &amp; Dutchgirl01

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 47**

_**Собой остаться дольше (To Stay With You Longer)**_

_Ангелы и демоны кружили надо мной_

_(Angels and demons were circling above me)_

_Разбивали тернии и звёздные пути _

_(Swishing through the hardships and Milky Ways)_

_Не знает счастья только тот,_

_(Only the one doesn't know happiness)_

_Кто его зова понять не смог…_

_(who couldn't understand its call.)_

_Полюбуйтесь, Полюбуйтесь _

_(Watch in awe. Watch in awe)_

_Aeria gloris, Aeria gloris_

_(A heavenly wind, A heavenly wind)_

_Полюбуйтесь, Полюбуйтесь_

_(Watch in awe. Watch in awe)_

_Aeria gloris, Aeria gloris_

_(A heavenly wind, A heavenly wind)_

_I am calling, calling now, spirits rise and falling_

_Собой остаться дольше… _

_(To stay with you longer)_

_Calling, calling, in the depth of longing_

_Собой остаться дольше…_

_(To stay with you longer)_

— _from Inner Universe by Origa_

* * *

Madam Aurora Byrde gently put her hand under the sienna brown phoenix with copper eyes to scoop up the drowsy chick that was nestled under her content mum.

"I'm sorry, Lady Snape," she cooed. "It's time for the weigh and measure."

Hermione twitched slightly, her wings flopping somewhat as she yawned beakily into Madam Byrde's face.

The magizoologist cradled Hermione in one hand, measuring her wings, tail, and beak as well as setting her on a scale. She wrote things down in her notebook and smiled at Hermione. "Growing well, my Lady. "Do you wish to join Lord Snape in the hot springs?"

Hermione peeped excitedly, and her excitement seemed to transfer over to her phoenix mum, as the copper-eyed phoenix promptly took off out the window towards the outside. Hermione stared off after the other phoenix looking a bit disgruntled as her full wing feathers hadn't grown in yet.

"No worries, my Lady," Aurora said. "Magizoologist to the rescue."

The elder witch gave Hermione a ripe gooseberry and carried her out the back door to where the outdoor hot springs waited.

A flock of socialising phoenixes gathered around, twittering happily as they hung out with Severin, who was sitting up to his neck in the warm water. His favourite book, charmed to be completely waterproof, floated on the top of the water as he read. Severus, however, was perched on Severin's shoulder and seemed very interested in reading along with him. Severus' downy covering had poofed outrageously in the steam, making him look like a black Puffskein, but he didn't seem to care in the slightest. His sooty black phoenix mum warbled happily from Severin's other shoulder, already looking much healthier considering her recent incarceration.

Aurora put Hermione down on the ledge of the hot springs, and Hermione hopped right in, floating on the top of the steamy water like a Muggle rubber duck. Her feathers poofed out, and she peeped happily. The magizoologist smiled. "I must thank you for allowing me to observe here," she stated sincerely as she watched Hermione contentedly bobbing about in the water.

Hermione and Severus warbled at her.

"They say it's a pleasure,"Severin said, flipping a page in his book. "You're welcome to stay as long as you wish."

Aurora's eyes widened.

Severin arched a brow.

"You can understand them?" Aurora asked.

"You cannot?" Severin asked, tilting his head at her.

She shook her head.

"Hn," Severin replied. He went back to reading, seemingly disinterested.

Hermione peeped at Aurora.

The witch looked at the earth-toned fluffball curiously.

"She wants to know how long it will take her to grow up again," Severin translated, not even looking up from his reading.

"Oh! Uh..." Aurora stammered a moment. "Judging by the rate of growth so far, I believe it will take a few weeks, though you will probably be able to make the shift sooner than that, perhaps in the next couple of days."

Severus peeped at Hermione, who peeped back at him a bit feistily.

Severin snorted.

Aurora looked somewhat put out at not being able to understand the conversation.

Severin arched a brow. "They are discussing how to teach and if looking like a lintball would go over any better than teaching as a toddler."

Aurora sputtered in disbelief.

Severin handed Severus a fig from the nearby bowl and Hermione a gooseberry. Severus eyed the gooseberry longingly, causing Severin to snort. He sniffed, turning the page in his book. "I'll cover your classes until you are… no longer tiny lintballs. You can perch on my shoulder and tell me who to smack upside the head."

Severus and Hermione warbled happily in approval.

"Hn," Severin answered, looking completely unimpressed. "One time's dunderheads are probably no different any other time's dunderheads."

Hermione floated over towards Severin and lay her head on his chest, looking adoringly up at him.

Severin sighed, placing one hand over the fluffy water-bobbing phoenix chick. "You are welcome," he muttered.

The water in the hotsprings rippled ominously, and a large leonine head suddenly popped up out of the churning foam, followed by a goat's head. The goat bleated, shaking water off of itself, and the long serpentine tail lashed out with an impressive hiss. Orion let out a large feline yawn, his lips pulling back from his long incisors in typical lion style. A wave of heated water churned off his fur as he pulled himself up onto the ledge and sprawled. Instantly, every phoenix in the area gathered on him, perching on his head, horns, back, and tail.

Aurora's eyes widened in shock as her body froze in place.

Severin, entirely nonplussed, transferred Severus and Hermione to Orion's paws, allowing them to cuddle up to Orion's impressively intimidating mass.

"Ah, there you are Severin," Jean called from the doorway. She carried a tray of tea cups and a teakettle with her. "Oh, hello, Madam Byrde," she said as she set the tea tray down. She casually poured tea out into a number of cups and distributed them, setting a rather large bowl of tea in front of Orion before handing Severin a cup for himself.

"Tea, Madam? I have a pot here of a nice chamomile blend that Sev— well an old friend of mine taught me to make," Jean offered.

Aurora sat down heavily on the chair that appeared right behind her, courtesy of the ever-attentive Tubby and Zilly. "Yes, please."

Jean poured her the tea and set it in her hand before sitting down on another comfy chair nearby. She watched as Orion lapped the tea up with his raspy tongue and in between laps, the phoenixes would intrude on his muzzle space and dip their beaks into his tea bowl. Orion simply slurped them over, knocking them around a little with his ministrations and resumed his thorough enjoyment of his tea.

Aurora sipped her tea almost mechanically, still rather stunned.

"Hermione," Walburga's stern voice broke the silence as she glided into the garden from the path. "That is not the proper way I have taught you to imbibe tea in front of guests."

Hermione hung her little head, making a sorrowful and apologetic peeping sound.

"Madam Byrde," Walburga greeted. "Ms Leontes." She scooped up the earthen-toned fluffy tea-drinker and cradled her in her hand. "We have a date with fabric samples, my dear. Do not think that being reborn in flames excuses you from your own wedding plans."

Hermione warbled her regrets as Walburga shook her head. "Good afternoon," Walburga said, gliding into the house with Hermione perched on her shoulder.

Aurora dropped her teacup but Jean reached out and deftly caught it while still sipping her own tea.

"Nice save," Severin quipped, turning his book page.

Jean gave a tight smile. "My old master used to say spilling tea was a sin anywhere that mattered."

Severin lifted his head and gazed at Jean. "Sounds like words of wisdom suitable for living by."

"You would have liked him, I think," Jean said staring up into the bright blue sky.

"Oh? Do tell," Severin replied, curious.

"You and he both shared the exact same dreary fashion sense," Jean replied, sipping her tea thoughtfully.

Severin arched one raven brow elegantly into his hair.

He leaned towards her, closing his book as his eyes scanned her very familiar dark robes. "Pot, meet cauldron."

Jean favored him with a small smile. "I learned from the very best."

* * *

_**Werepoodle or Death Eater: Not Much of a Choice**_

_Many people have been wondering why so many Death Eaters have been found dead following the disappearance of Voldemort, yet the population of werepoodles in Azkaban seems entirely unaffected._

_The answer?_

_Succumbing to the werepoodle transformation seems to cancel out the binding magic used to link Voldemort to his chosen minions. _

"_This seems to indicate that Voldemort really is no more," Auror Hastings stated. "The poodles have no trace of the Mark left anywhere on their bodies. Whether this means the human element of said poodles has now been fully eliminated, at least in the case of the Death Eater prisoners, is still unknown at this time." _

_Many seem to realise that when it comes to being a live werepoodle or a dead Death Eater, there isn't really much of a choice._

* * *

Amelia Bones stood at the foot of Albus Dumbledore's "bed" staring into a crystal mounted on a pedestal. "Gavin, are you sure his is what is going on in his— oh! Oh my."

Unspeakable Gavin Kingfisher wandered up and smacked the globe with his head, muttering an incantation. The vision swirled and changed into something more stable.

"Sorry about that, ma'am," Kingfisher replied. "I've been working on getting it stable, but we've never before had to monitor someone who switches time-streams as often as he does."

Amelia stared into the crystal. "I've never felt so sorry for a quaffle before," Amelia commented with a slightly twisted expression.

"I counted maybe a hundred different phoenixes yanking him out of 'their' timestreams and flinging him into other ones," Gavin confessed. "We stopped keeping a log keeping track of how often that was happening and decided that mounting this monitoring ball would prove far more efficient and effective."

Amelia shook her head. "I might feel sorry for the ba… er, bloke if I didn't already know the full extent of what he'd done to countless others."

Kingfisher gave a small smile. "If I've learned anything at all from being an Unspeakable… it's that what comes around literally does go around."

"Painfully so, yes," Amelia agreed, signing off on the chart that was kept hanging on the wall next to Dumbledore's cell. "It's not going to make things any better for those he kept captive and then essentially threw to their deaths, but at least we can say he is, somehow, paying for his crimes."

Gavin tapped the crystal. "Oh, he is paying for… something, but I have no idea how."

Amelia shook her head. "Karma, Gavin. Perhaps, even Death himself had a hand in it."

Gavin's eyes widened. "The Hallows… I never imagined they were real. I would have liked to see them just once, but I suppose that is what damned so many people to begin with."

Amelia nodded. "I'm glad they are gone, Gavin, make no mistake. There is no place safe for that kind of temptation to be constantly rearing its ugly head."

Gavin sighed. "What are we going to do with this one, then?" he asked, chucking his thumb in the general direction of the much younger man suspended in a similar manner to Albus Dumbledore.

Amelia tapped her fingers on the relevant clipboard. "We wait. The Wizengamot has to decide if there is even a legal way to punish someone for something that would have happened had they not been yanked out of a particular timestream in just the nick of time. We're not even sure what locked him out of his timestream to begin with. We'd have to bring in either Hermione or Severus to personally inspect his timestream and I'm not sure if that's a good idea right now. "

"Well, he's not going anywhere, Amelia," Gavin said, patting Amelia on the shoulder. "He can wait for them to get rightfully married and enjoy some peace and quiet before dealing with him. It's not like making them come in today will help send him home."

Amelia nodded. "The last spell that came off the wand we confiscated from him is enough make him a resident of Azkaban for life."

Gavin gave a sad smile. "Lunch? I think it's time we left these two back in the dark where they belong."

Amelia shook her head in affirmative. "I don't know about you, but I'm craving those magical meatballs from Murtas e Rossi."

As the pair walked out of the chambers and the lights dimmed, a soft green glow dimmed off the parchment at the foot of the second prisoner's bed.

**Ronald Bilius Weasley 2006**

Codename: **Mr Clifford B. Reddog**

Original Date of Birth: **01 March 1980**

Case Number: **XF-5172FC43B-RBW**

Arresting Aurors: _**Auror Vulpes Mhuldar &amp; Auror Demeter Sculae**_

Status: **Temporally Displaced, Awaiting Trial**

Crimes: **Use of illegal blood magic, unauthorized use of Unforgivables in peacetime, murder of Hermione Jean Granger, wanton irrevocable damage to an existing timeline, performing magic while intoxicated**

Time stream ID: **TS-45261577-FR-B15266**

Returnable: **No**

Witness to Time Disturbance: **Unknown**

Last Magic Cast: **Illegal Blood Magic and Killing Curse**

Persons absolutely forbidden to have access to case regardless of designation: **Weasley, any**

**Prewett, any**

Case Sealed by: **Amelia Bones, Head Director of the Department of Magic**

* * *

_**Azkaban Welcomes First Animal Warden**_

_Azkaban is welcoming its very first animal welfare warden thanks to a combination of factors stemming from the recent werepoodle outbreak. _

_Rubeus Hagrid, who was formerly the apprentice of Master Silvanus Kettleburn at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has decided to leave his apprenticeship behind in order to tend to the animals of Azkaban. Master Kettleburn, who formally broke the apprentice and master agreement in order for Mr Hagrid to leave, states that he wishes the man well in his new endeavors._

_Professor Kettleburn, who has taken on a new apprentice, a young centaur named Bane, stated that a Care of Magical Creatures apprenticeship does not necessarily lead to a teaching career. Sometimes, he stated, you find yourself taking care of those that can't speak or care for themselves. Bane, joining his herd-mate, Firenze, in teaching at Hogwarts, stated that he is looking forward to a prosperous partnership after having experienced such a wonderful partnership during the war, which is being called the War of Hatred and Time by magical scribes._

* * *

Article Posted in Dutch Newspaper, warning those doing research in Azkaban in regards to the new "Animal Warden":

**Half-reus Obstakels**

_Het lijkt erop dat Hagrid een ernstig minderwaardigheidscomplex heeft. Omdat hij als een bastaard wordt gezien vanwege zijn afkomst._

_Hij is een allemans vriend, hij wilt graag aardig worden gevonden door iedereen._

_Dit kan soms tot alarmerende situaties leiden omdat hij ook vrienden wordt met gevaarlijke wezens die hij ziet als onschuldig._

"_Ze doen geen vlieg kwaad" was Hagrids antwoord op de vraag waarom hij een gevaarlijke Kelpie wilde voorstellen aan zijn studenten._

_Ook kwamen de gevangenisbewaarders erachter dat Hagrid veel te goed van vertrouwen is. Hij wilde een uitstapje maken met een van de gevangenen nadat deze vertelde dat zijn huisdier al weken alleen zat en zeker wilde weten dat er genoeg voer was._

_-o-o-o-o-_

_It seems that Hagrid suffers from a serious minority complex. Because he is regarded as something of a bastard due to his parental heritage._

_He is an everybody's friend , he wants the world to like him._

_This can sometimes lead to dangerous situations because he also befriends dangerous creatures he sees as innocent. _

_ "They wouldn't harm a fly" was Hagrid's response when asked why he wanted to introduce a hazardous Kelpie to his students._

_The guards also discovered that Hagrid really has too much faith in people. He wanted to take a field trip with one of the prisoners to check if his pet really had enough food, said pet was all alone for weeks._

* * *

_**Hogwarts Welcomes New Professors **_

_**Into Its Ranks for the New Term**_

_The Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has posted its yearly list of professors for the autumn term:_

_Headmistress: Professor Minerva McGonagall _

_Deputy Head: Professor Filius Flitwick_

_**Defence Against the Dark Arts: Professor Remus Lupin_

_**Divination: Professor Firenze_

_**Transfiguration: Professor Hermione Snape_

_**Cultural Studies (formerly Muggle Studies): Professor Charity Burbage and Assistant Professor Hope Moody_

_Astronomy: Professor Aurora Sinistra_

_Study of Ancient Runes: Professor Bathsheda Babbling_

_**History of Magic: Professor Solange Lovegood_

_Charms: Professor Filius Flitwick_

_Care of Magical Creatures: Professor Silvanus Kettleburn and Apprentice Professor Bane_

_**Potions: Professor Severus Snape_

_Herbology: Professor Pomona Sprout and Apprentice Honey Lovegood_

_Flying: Professor Rolanda Hooch and Apprentice Professor James Potter_

_Arithmancy: Professor Septima Vector_

_Hogwarts is also happy to announce several new elective classes at the start of next term:_

_Healing: Medi-witch Poppy Pomfrey and Apprentice Professor Tala Verne_

_Music: Professor Melody Stanza_

_Art: Professor Salvatore Picasso_

_Magical Being Studies: Professor Gnashtooth_

_Political Science: Professor Khan Descending_

_Magical Journalism: Xenophilius Lovegood_

_Magical Ethics and Critical Thinking: Bartholomew Wiseman_

_Due to a few professors such as Professor Horace Slughorn, who chose to retire at the end of this term, and Professor Quirinus Quirrell, who was, sadly, killed by a rogue vampire while on sabbatical in Albania, Hogwarts students will find a few new and not-so-new faces at the staff table when they return to school this September._

_**Professorial positions that have been newly filled in order to replace the previous professor(s) have been denoted with a double asterisk._

_The new Hogwarts Heads of House are as follows:_

_Gryffindor: Professor Remus Lupin_

_Hufflepuff: Professor Pomona Sprout_

_Ravenclaw: Professor Filius Flitwick_

_Slytherin: Professors Severus and Hermione Snape _

* * *

Severus peeped sharply from Severin's shoulder, causing the older potions master to lift one elegant brow into his far less greasy hair. Thanks to its daily exposure to hot spring treatments, Severin's potion fumes-abused hair had turned downright soft and silky, much to the dismay of Severus, who still had nightmares about his pre-burning-day-hair that still hadn't stopped looking like someone had dipped it in tar and left it to dry out on a laundry line in some Merlin-forsaken blazing desert. Oh sure, it _had _indeed been silky to the touch and smelled like bloody ripe blackberries, thanks to Lily, but it had unfortunately looked as if he had never learned how to effectively use a hairbrush or a comb in his life. About the only consolation was that James had volunteered to be Lily's test dummy during the last year in order to get on her good side, and now James' hair was so permanently spiky that he looked like he'd starched his hair, dipped it in cement, and then let a dragon sneeze on it. Hermione thought it made James resemble an overlarge hedgehog that had been badly startled. It had also caused his hair colour to change randomly whenever he was in a very particular sort of mood. Severus privately counted himself very fortunate that his hair problems had been solved by spontaneous combustion. Better that than hair that effectively imitated a mood ring.

There were, surprisingly, some unforeseen advantages to taking a death curse and then going through a burning day, though he had to admit that the last curse Albus Dumbledore had seen fit to bestow upon Hermione, himself, and Fawkes was _**not **_one he ever wished to experience again.

Three unlucky stragglers tried to sneak in through the back of the room while Severin's head was down and Severus peeped in clear annoyance. Oddly, Severin didn't even seem to notice. When Severin's quill finished scribbling down notes in his notebook, Severus was forced to squint at it with his small black eyes. How could anyone actually _read_ that? Was that some bizarre form of cipher?

"Tell me, Miss Vesper. Mr Mathas. Mr Greenbury," Severin said rather venomously. "Are you _deaf_? Blind, perhaps? Perhaps you tripped on a banana peel on your way to the lavatory and fell into a bottomless pit filled with time-tar?"

The three students in the back froze and gulped audibly, paling.

Severin's black eyes were completely Occluded as he stared them down. Severus, too, fiercely glared at them from under Severin's hair, but he had the feeling that he was being very effectively outdone by his "uncle."

Severin's long, pale fingers pulled at his outer robe, drawing it around his shoulders and closer to his chest. He narrowed his eyes, releasing his grip on his robe as he slammed his hands down hard on the front lip of the desk.

"Tell me, Miss Vesper," Severin growled. "What happens when you mix sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter?"

The red-headed young witch flushed and shook her head violently from side-to-side.

"Tell me, Mr Mathas," Severin droned. "What type of soil is saltpeter extracted from?"

The freckled boy's lip quivered ominously, but he nothing emerged from his mouth other than a strange sort of wheezing sound.

"Mrrrrrrr Greeeeeenbury," Severin crooned dangerously, elongating his syllables in a way that made his voice seem to drip venom. "Tell me how you create charcoal without it being consumed in the process of burning?"

Greenbury stammered, "L...lo… low oxygen, sir!"

Severin leaned in over Greenbury. "What material is most commonly used to make it? Mr… Greenbury."

Greenbury looked like he was going to cry. "W...ww… willow, sir!"

Severin's intense gaze glowered at Greenbury a few seconds more before he stood so suddenly that Severus had to flap his little wings wildly in order to maintain balance.

"It seems, while all three of you were late, only one of you actually managed to do the reading for today," Severin growled. "All three of you will be serving detention with me tonight; however," he glowered over Vesper and Mathas, "Mr Mathas and Miss Vesper will also be writing three feet of parchment on the history of gunpowder, which must be turned in to me by the start of tomorrow's class."

Severin spun on his heels and used his gaze like a laser through the class. "Turn to page three-hundred-and-seventy-two."

The entire class scrambled hurriedly to pull their books out of their neglected book-bags and do exactly that.

Severus peeped absolute adoration from Severin's shoulder as the older Potion Master idly scratched under the phoenix chick's tiny chin.

* * *

"Hermione, Remus, Severus," Master Barberry said warmly as he clipped a new pin to their collars and Master McGonagall laid a bright sapphire silk stole around their neck. "I have never been so proud as I am today. Today, I do cast thee out from the nest of my making, and I proudly welcome you into the Halls of the Masters."

"I have seen you grow from child to adult," Minerva said. "I have been with you through proud moments, sad times, and truly frightening times when I believed survival would be nothing short of miraculous."

"We have seen both studious and mischievous," Barberry chuckled.

"We have seen acts of great compassion and those of preservation of life," Minerva noted.

"Your dedication to your craft and the education of your peers demonstrates your willing heart to cast your own light on those around you," Minerva said.

"We name thee masters in front of your peers," Barberry continued.

"Master Remus Lupin."

"Master Severus Snape."

"Master Hermione Snape."

As the trio stood in front of the other masters and apprentices who had also been welcomed into the Halls of Mastery, they took each others hands in theirs and bowed. The applause rose to a deafening roar.

Severus stared down at Hermione and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. Hermione flushed in front of all the witnesses and stood on her tippy toes to kiss Severus' forehead.

Remus averted his eyes, looking slightly left out.

Severus and Hermione turned to plant an unexpected kiss to his temples at exactly the same time. Remus' eyes bugged out as the flash of a photographer's camera caught his bewildered expression even as Severus and Hermione had already lapsed into their flawless masks of solemn propriety.

Master Barberry leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Minerva's. "Marry me, my love. Our chicks have finally left the nest. Let us now make new ones."

Minerva's eyes glowed with emotion as she pressed her hands to Barberry's cheeks and brought his head down to her level. "Yes. _Yes!_ You incorrigible man!" She brought her lips to his as a flare of magic blew out across the Hall of Masters.

Newly-minted Masters Severus and Hermione Snape and Master Remus Lupin tilted back their heads and crowed with delight.

* * *

"Thank you for coming in, Severus, Hermione," Amelia said as she gestured for the pair to sit in a set of comfortable chairs in her office.

The office looked like a library and a museum had given birth to a child that had grown up to become Amelia's chosen base of operations, and there were some objects that seemed strangely out of place as though they might belong in some other time. The witch had two offices, technically. One was upstairs where non-DoM people could come and visit, and then there was her "real" office which was a mixture of so many different things that most people wouldn't know what to do with if it bit them in the face.

Severus stared at a small crystal box with a strange-looking ball that resembled a snitch mated with pissed-off doxy, but it had a mouth and fangs and threw itself at the sides with a loud, aggressive hissing noise. A small plaque on the side stated:

Experiment A55-67V of Tichus Gnomeworthy

Project Status: Cancelled

Reason: Bites faces (any faces) and causes violent cramping and uncontrollable diarrhea.

Severus stared at the odd-looking experiment and nudged Hermione with his elbow, jutting his chin for her to look at the box. Hermione stared at it a moment and her eyes went wide.

"Who even _does_ that?" Hermione whispered.

"Tichus Gnomeworthy was a rather, shall we say… eccentric wizard," Amelia said. "He was the great mind behind the Remembrall and the self-cleaning kitchen charms, but when he reached his nineties, he started coming up with some very, erm... strange and, frankly, inadvisable experiments."

"I hope this one doesn't have friends," Severus commented with a small shudder.

Amelia waved her hands. "Thank Merlin, no. We realised that he had spent so much time dabbling in various forms of volatile magic that it had finally caught up with him. Fortunately, he was never a violent man, and he wasn't the kind of person to try and breed basilisks or anything. He had one noteworthy apprentice who still carries on the more light-hearted and fun inventions for entertainment purposes. Z… Zronk… Zonkie… bother. You'd think I'd remember a Z name. It's not like we have a lot of them."

"Zonko?" Hermione suggested.

"Yes!" Amelia sighed. "He's off making odd things to make people laugh. Personally, I'm glad he's doing that instead of working with the sort of things his master fancied. You can see what it ended up doing to him."

Hermione couldn't help but poke the crystal container to agitate the experiment. The creature inside promptly came unglued and exploded. Hermione looked extremely guilty. "I…"

Amelia shook her head. "Not to worry," she assured the younger witch. "It pulls itself back together in about an hour or so."

Severus stared at the container with disbelief. "Some things you simply cannot _unsee_, as hard as I might try to do so."

Amelia smiled a bit ironically. "Welcome to the Department of Mysteries. We specialise in putting lids on the kind of things no one really wants to know about."

"Sounds a bit like the life of a phoenix," Hermione said with a shrug. "I feel like our lot in life is to be the custodians of time… and we go around with an endless bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and a fine-toothed comb and hope to get all the snarls out before they become time-dreadlocks."

"Interesting way of describing it, Hermione," Amelia chuckled. "Severin told me you were both ready to address our little issue, thanks ever so much to the time-abductions of Mr Dumbledore. I apologise that we must do this before something so grand as your upcoming wedding."

Severus waved his hand. "It's not like we won't be married if something happens. We seem to have that part taken care of already."

Amelia smiled. "And just think of all the paperwork you saved, not to mention the filing fees."

Hermione laughed. "From what I know of the Ministry, there is a form for everything. I do not envy whoever had to fill out the paperwork for the paperwork we never filled out."

Amelia tapped her nose. "You are correct. It wasn't me, so, really that that is all I needed to know. Eugenia keeps telling me at our monthly meetings at the Ministry that every month she finds no less than twenty ridiculously random rules that people have slipped in without proper approval that she's had to yank out of the law books and then inform the Aurors that they aren't supposed to arrest someone for visiting the facilities without filling out a form. That one, I think, was thanks to a certain pink poodle of note. We've found entire stacks of outrageous things with her horrible signature on them, or rather, her very particular and jaded touch."

Severus narrowed his eyes at that. I've read the documentation. No better fate for her than what and where she is, I think."

"You are probably correct," Amelia agreed. She tilted her head to as if to ponder something and then shook her head adamantly as if to clear some stray thought away by force. "Seeing as you both have been so generous in accepting my offer of providing assistance to the Department of Mysteries with unusual situations that would benefit from your particular talents, I feel I must bring this case, in particular, to your attention. His crimes have already been put to trial, despite the man himself being unable to attend, thanks to a very thorough scan from our normal time scribes and numerous one-on-one interviews with him before he completely lost control in the interview room and tried to take out Unspeakable Jessica Abernathy with a chair."

"We've kept him isolated due to multiple 'relatives' that apparently exist in this timestream," Amelia explained. "He's convinced that he's a hero and an Auror and that his family will support his claims of innocence. He is fixated on the idea that he has committed no crime and that his family will see him vindicated at all costs. Needless to say, it is absolutely essential that this supposed family is _not _informed of his existence. The Wizengamot requires us to find a solution to his situation as he cannot be permitted official access into our timeline, even with a lifetime sentence in Azkaban for his crimes. If even a hint of his current situation were to get back to any time-sensitive individuals, it could prove utterly disastrous."

"The situation with Severin and Jean, Silvanus and Maya Prince, and the displaced masters have all been cleared and they have been fully briefed in order for them to live out normal lives," Amelia continued. "But this one… there is no strategic place we can keep him. And he refuses to understand, much less accept, just how dangerous his presence becoming public knowledge would be to our timeline." She sighed deeply. "Not to mention that the DoM is not exactly set up to be a place of incarceration for people, with the exception of Mr Dumbledore who is far too dangerous to be placed even in Azkaban. He must remain here. But this other captive… we're not quite sure what we can do with him."

"While this one is not as dangerous in the same way that Dumbledore was," Amelia continued, "he will most definitely attempt to make contact with those who he thinks will support him, and there is a much higher chance that his being revealed to his supposed family members will present a grave danger to the future of both the Weasley and Prewett lines."

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances. "What is it you require of us, Amelia? You have but to ask."

"There is one question that needs answering before we can decide on the extent of his punishment," Amelia said. "The Wizengamot needs to be sure that this is the same person who is guilty of the crimes we believe him to have committed. They have passed a preliminary sentence that keeps him here, temporarily, but if this is the same person that is in fact the person who killed you in their timeline that brought you into this one, it means a far more severe sentence for him. If it is a case of mistaken identity, and we are obligated to investigate that possibility, then we also need to know so we are not sentencing someone who just happened to be in the wrong place at even a worse time. If that is the case, well, then we have more work to do, but that will be for me and my teams to sort out."

Severus placed his hand on Hermione's. "I will do it."

Hermione gave Severus an indecipherable look.

Severus gently placed his fingertips to her chin. "You have done countless things, big and small, for me. Never have I had to ask. This I choose to do freely. You needn't ask."

Hermione nodded, smiling at him with visible relief. She tenderly put her fingers against his ear and brushed back his hair. "I love you," she mouthed silently.

Severus gave her a private smile, his dark eyes rimmed with flickering black flames.

* * *

As Severus sat in the chair, his hands steepled as he observed this boy… the supposed man who would be both Auror and hero in some timeline far, far away. The redhead snored away with all the situational awareness of a drunken flobberworm. How could anyone like _this _possibly be an Auror? Alastor Moody obviously hadn't trained him, that was for certain. No one trained by Alastor Moody would have simply slept on through a stranger walking into a place they were sleeping, cell or otherwise.

The man, and Severus wasn't sure what to call him, definitely had all the distinctive signs of the Weasley genetic imprint. Vivid red hair, a profusion of freckles, and a somewhat aggressive curve of the jaw or alignment of the nose that practically screamed Weasley. Privately, Severus wondered if his own children would be quite so recognisable. He prayed to Merlin that whatever children he and Hermione might have, that it was not his distinctive nose that came to prove without a doubt that someone had been born and raised in the House of Snape. Then again, Hermione seemed quite taken by his rather distinctive nose, so maybe it wasn't such a horrible thing as he had used to think. Roman sculpture seemed to think the aquiline nose was worth preserving for posterity, after all. Who was he to argue?

Amelia had given him clearance to use Legilimency, but Severus really didn't want to dive right in, even if the bloke was sleeping. He wanted to know the kind of person this man was. Was he really the type to murder a friend in a drunken haze, or was he an innocent who managed to get scrambled up with the person who did? When it came to the victims of Albus Dumbledore, anything was possible, and those anythings were often truly horrifying.

Hermione had always been the best at breaking through shields and getting right to the bottom of things, and interrogation had been her focus under training. Severus, on the other hand, specialised in combat spellwork and knowing what focus was going to be cast in time to shield for it, or, in some cases at least, get the hell out of the way. Hermione also did much better at touch Legilimency, while he was better with range scans. Remus, however, couldn't do a lick of Legilimency due to his strange, overwhelming desire for peanut butter any time he tried to cast the spell. That was still somewhat embarrassing for the now full-time DADA professor, and both Severus and Hermione promised that if Legilimency was even covered in DADA, which was highly unlikely, both Hermione and Severus would come and slap an enormous jar of Muggle peanut butter on his muzzle and teach the class for him.

Thankfully, any situation that would require Remus to use Legilimency, at least in regards to teaching his class, was very unlikely. Legilimency and Occlumency were generally only topics covered in advanced study, usually between masters and apprentices, so unless Remus planned on taking an apprentice any time soon, he was probably going to be just fine. Probably. Maybe. Merlin, he bloody hoped so.

Severus sniffed quietly, his eyebrow raising as one Ronald Bilius Weasley slept away, oblivious to his current situation. The time sands were embedded deeply into the Weasley's skin. There were time sands from quite a few different timelines, and Severus stared at them, focusing. Most of them were from the shared timestreams that were incarcerated against their will in the various time rooms.

There was something about this particular person, however, that was somehow _different _from the other time refugees. It was almost as if he had an echo about him— something that hinted to another person...

As his eyes glided to follow the trails of magic. Streams wove in and out view, some of them coloured and some much like the sand he compared them to, he saw two strong trails interwoven and leading to— the breathing but empty body of Albus Dumbledore.

Severus narrowed his eyes. The trail led specifically to this Dumbledore. That meant… no. He needed more confirmation about the nature of that tie. Albus was nothing if not a prolific tamperer and manipulator. With all of the things the man had been guilty of, the subjugation of a new minion was hardly off the list of things the wily old goat would do. The dead body of one former Peter Pettigrew was recovered by Norwegian Aurors after two ice fisherman discovered it half-frozen near their favorite spot. Pettigrew's remains had been partially consumed by polar bears during the particularly warm weather that had melted the ice and trapped the polar bears in places they would normally have left behind for other hunting grounds. The "parents" of said Pettigrew wandered into the Auror's office claiming to be Mr and Mrs Saul and Agnes Naumann and having no recollection of anything that had happened in the last two decades. St Mungo's added two more patients to their growing list of critical memory patients, and the evidence against Dumbledore would surely have gotten him incarcerated had he not already been sentenced to entertain endless generations of phoenixes as their personal plaything to boot in and out of the timestreams.

For all Severus knew, this… Ronald Bilius Weasley could be some random hapless bloke with unnaturally red hair and truly abysmal luck. It was very unlikely, but if he had learned anything while dealing with the aftermath of Albus Dumbledore's lifetime of treachery, one could never take _anything _at face value.

Severus closed his eyes and extended his senses, allowing his mind to travel the streams to the source.

* * *

"_Give it back!" Ron yelled at his twin brothers. "That's mine!"_

"_Nothing is ever truly yours, ickle Ronniekins," the twins laughed. "Well, except for those sweaters mum knits for us every year. Those are unfortunately ours forever."_

_Ron glared at his brothers, his face red with anger._

* * *

"_Now, now, Ronald," Molly placated. "Dumbledore has always been such a good friend to our family. So, if he says he has something important to talk to you about, you don't just go telling him no. I'll send Errol to tell him you'll be arriving to see him tomorrow at nine o'clock."_

"_But, mum!" Ron whinged. "Tomorrow, we're supposed to go to the Quidditch game."_

"_That," Molly said, "can wait for another day."_

_Ronald slumped, defeated. "Yes, mum."_

* * *

"_Here you go, Ronald," Arthur said, handing his son a wooden cage with a large brown rat in it. The rat was stuffing his face full of crisps. "You take good care of him at school."_

"_But dad—" Ron protested. "Rats aren't allowed at Hogwarts. I read the list!"_

"_Now don't you worry about that, son," Arthur said, patting him on the shoulder. "Dumbledore let Percy have him, so you won't have to worry about it. Besides, he's family!"_

"_He eats my food," Ron said with a scowl._

"_We all learn to share, son," Arthur said warmly. "Do well in school, and you could end up prefect too in your 5th year. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"_

"_But, if I get an owl like Percy, what happens to Scabbers?" Ron asked. _

_Fred and George poked their heads around the staircase. "We haven't had our fun with him, yet!"_

"_Ow!" Ron yelled, shaking his hand. The cage went crashing to the ground as Scabbers went scurrying away to hide._

"_Fred! George!" Molly screeched. "What did you do to Ronald's rat?"_

"_Accio Scabbers," Arthur said, catching the rat in his hand. "You're going to have to learn and remember that spell, Ronald."_

_Ron, however, wasn't listening. His twin brothers had stolen his Chudley Cannons snitch and were holding it above his head._

* * *

"_I have a very special task for you, my boy," the old wizard said, stroking his long grey beard. "One that will end in fame, glory, and the famous happy ending."_

"_Me? Famous?" Ron's eyes grew very wide._

_Dumbledore nodded gravely. "If you agree, this may take years, but at the end, everything will be so much better. People will see you as a hero. Any job you dream of could be yours."_

"_I could be captain of the Chudley Cannons?" Ronald blurted._

"_You could, my boy," Albus answered. _

_Ron seemed to ponder something very seriously. "I'll do it!"_

_Dumbledore smiled. "Remember, this task is very, very important. No one can know about it but you and me. Your mother says you are very eager to prove yourself."_

_Ron nodded enthusiastically. _

"_There will be someone I need you meet," Dumbledore said. "He will be on the Hogwarts Express. It is imperative that you befriend him and ensure that sees you as a good friend. When times get hard, it to you he must rely. While he may other friends, you must be the one who is always there for him. He may find solace in your family. He may try to branch out and have other friends, but it is very important that you keep him from bad influences like those found in the Slytherin House." _

"_Mum says there hasn't been a witch or wizard gone bad that didn't come from Slytherin," Ron agreed, nodding his red head vigorously ._

"_Indeed, my boy," Dumbledore answered. "It would be very good for you to always remember that." _

* * *

"_How did it go, my boy?" _

"_Good, sir," Ron replied. "Hermione stood up for Harry and I when we fought the troll, just like you said she would. She thinks we're the only friends she has." _

"_Good, good," Dumbledore approved, "she will be crucial to your future success. Be sure to downplay how important she is, though, so no one suspects."_

"_Yes, sir," Ron said with a wide grin. _

"_And Harry?" _

_Ron's look turned smug. "He and I are already best mates," Ron boasted confidently._

_Dumbledore held out a bowl filled with boxes of chocolate frogs. "Excellent. Now let us discuss what you'll need to do next." _

* * *

"_You have to understand, Ron," Headmaster Dumbledore stated as he stroked the globe in his office. "Snape is a very complex individual, but the one thing you must always keep in mind is that you must not allow Miss Granger to see something of herself in him. It was very good the way you stoked her paranoia before. That little thing with setting his robes on fire was perfect. She must remain loyal to you and Harry at all costs." _

"_But, sir," Ron protested. "She's so bloody bossy, and she is always trying to keep Harry from doing the things you had me suggest to him." _

"_It's a useful dynamic, my boy," Dumbledore reassured. "Think of it like chess. You must be sure that each of your friends move according to the rules of their personality. Guide them in the way they are most natural and they will never realise it wasn't actually by their own choice." _

_Ron straightened his shoulders, his mind already whirring with the possibilities. "I will make you proud, sir." _

_Albus nodded with clear satisfaction. "I know you will." _

* * *

"_Two drops," Ron muttered to himself. "Just two drops under the tongue. They'll think you're going to die. No matter what cure they give you, it'll wear off without a trace. You can do this." _

_Ron braced himself and placed two drops under his tongue from the vial the headmaster had given him, then rushed out from the boys' lavatory to tear into his Christmas presents with the rest of his dorm mates. When Harry started digging into his trunk for the map, Ron grabbed the box of doctored chocolate cauldrons that Romilda had given Harry and dutifully dug in. Soon, Ron was staggering around the dorm, spouting his newfound love for the beautiful, raven-haired, teenaged enchantress, Romilda Vane, causing an amused Harry to promptly drag him along for an impromptu visit to Professor Slughorn. Ron dopily trailed along, waiting for just the right moment to hit the high point of his performance. After Slughorn had cured Ron of his embarrassing affliction and offered him and Harry a glass of mead, Ron immediately quaffed it and proceeded to hit the floor, gagging and playing it up for all he was worth and scaring Harry and Slughorn half out of their wits. Soon, Ron was being rushed straight to the infirmary and the care of Madam Pomfrey. Ron spent the next few days enjoying being the center of attention, having been "saved" from the very brink of death, with his worried family and Harry and Hermione gathered all around him. His decision to fitfully moan Hermione's name was his own acting choice and it worked beyond his wildest dreams. The headmaster would be very pleased, he thought to himself with satisfaction. Mission accomplished._

_Even better than planned, Lavender had outlived her usefulness, and after all was said and done, Hermione would be none the wiser and she would stop pining after Viktor Krum and waiting anxiously for letters from him, which Ron had been very careful to intercept and dispose of, thanks to the exhausted birds having to lay over in the owlry before flying off to Muggle-inhabited areas. Even better, he heard that Viktor was rapidly growing disheartened by Hermione's apparent lack of interest. The letters were getting fewer and fewer between. It was perfect._

_Snape was still sniffing around, clearly suspicious of the curious circumstances surrounding Ron's near-death experience. Damn the interfering greasy-haired git. He was pretty sure it had nothing to do with actual concern on anyone's behalf, which was all going according to plan. Still, he hoped that his ruse would take enough time to rule out any of the more common poisons, or in his case, a fake poison. Snape was hardly going to taste it to find out for sure. And Slughorn was far too lazy to bother investigating any further himself. The smell and timing had to be just right to indicate some unknown and deadly poison of a fast-acting and quickly metabolized sort. Ron had never been good at potions, so he trusted Dumbledore to provide him with exactly what he needed. The headmaster had never let him down before. Everything was going exactly to plan._

* * *

_Ron woke from his unexpected combat with the very insistent brains in the Room of Dangerous Minds at the Department of Mysteries. He had, in fact, been prepared for battle. Dumbledore had told him to be careful, but Merlin! He hadn't expected to be attacked by dozens of weird disembodied brains. He shivered, remembering just how awful it had been. Tendrils of psionic curiosity had tried to weave their way into his grey matter and make themselves at home, and Ron hadn't wanted any part of that at all._

_They had wanted to "fix" him._

_Ron hadn't wanted to be fixed. He was just fine, thank you._

_They had wanted to free him._

_He hadn't wanted that either. He made his own choices. That was enough._

_They hadn't wanted to take no for an answer, and the next thing he remembered was… well he really couldn't quite recall, to be perfectly honest._

_Ron rubbed at his eyes and turned over only to have them suddenly attempt to bulge out of his head._

_Snape was seated by Hermione's bedside. Best of her class, his freckled arse. Dolohov had been silenced, sure, but she had stupidly thought that would be enough. Psh. Death Eaters had ways. They were all bloody Slytherins anyway. They all cheated. Why wouldn't she ever wise up and realise that house elves were meant to serve, and the only good Slytherin was a dead one. And that applied double to bloody Death Eaters._

_Snape was patting something onto the wound in Hermione's shoulder. He was… singing to her?_

_Snape bloody __**sang**__?_

_That wasn't right at all. That wasn't even natural._

_For the first time, Ron saw something resembling emotion in the Potion Master's black eyes. No, it __**was **__actual emotion. Real, honest-to-goodness emotion._

_That was… highly disturbing. Horrifying, even. _

_Hermione moaned in obvious distress, her body suffering from the effects of the curse that Dolohov had struck her with. Perhaps, had the man not been silenced, the effects would have been fatal, but instead she was crying like a child in her sleep. _

_Snape wrung out a damp towel and patted her head gently, concern written all over his face. His movements were jerky, as if they were terribly unpracticed, but he slowly, almost tenderly, wiped her feverish brow and poured more of the healing potion onto her wound. He sang again, and this time, Ron was sure it was a song._

_It was… oddly beautiful._

_She was finally settling, her cries of pain fading. It looked like Snape was getting up, about to leave, but he paused to pull the infirmary blanket up to keep Hermione warm. As he stood to leave, Hermione's hand clasped the Potion Master's hand and pulled it close. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't even seem aware of what she did, but the effect on Snape was profound._

_His face twisted as if in some kind of torment, but he sat back down again. This time, however, he placed his hand over Hermione's, allowing her to have the comfort she so desperately needed. _

_This wasn't good at all. Ron sensed something starting to spontaneously form between the two of them. It was something that lurked on the periphery of his awareness, teasing at the back of his mind. _

_Magic. Physical touch and magic were weaving together and forming something horrible: a bond. It might not even be something either of the two might notice, but Ron had noticed. The headmaster had been absolutely adamant that Hermione must __**never **__come to_ _trust anyone outside of their small, tightly-knit group. Especially Snape. Snape was a bloody Slytherin. He could never be trusted._

_Everything would be ruined of Hermione turned to any of the other professors or members of the Order in confidence. Everything he had been working towards would be ruined if Snape was anything but exactly what the headmaster desired him to be._

* * *

Severus experienced a few disjointed images flashing through his consciousness as he reached out through the memory and examined the strange fledgling bond that was forming between the injured Hermione and Professor Snape. With horror, he realised exactly what it was.

Four kisses would have been all it took. Perhaps, only one to solidify what was already there. It was the same, powerful anchor that he shared with his beloved wife.

Hermione Granger and Professor Snape were fated… had been… were supposed to be—

How many bonds had Albus destroyed with his shameless, selfish tampering? How many Hermiones and Severuses had suffered because of being forcibly parted, barred from their rightful gift: a very intimate magical bond?

_Hermione, don't you dare die on me! You don't get to save my life from that old goat and then die on me!_

Severus flinched.

In at least one time period, Severus Snape and Hermione Granger had found each other but had just barely managed to hold onto it. How many others had not been quite so fortunate?

Severus didn't want to go back into Ronald Weasley's mind. He knew he had to, but he definitely did not wish to at all. What would his life had been like without Hermione Ankaa Black? Would this Ronald Weasley be the same one who murdered Hermione in her previous life?

Should he curse him for his part in it or thank him?

Both?

Severus closed his eyes tightly and then shook his head as if to clear it. No. Albus Dumbledore was the instigator. He was the root of the problem. He had to see if Ronald Weasley, this particular one, did in his service to Dumbledore. It was already obvious that their apparent partnership was a willing one. Was Ronald Weasley the Peter Pettigrew of his Hermione's future-past?

He had to be absolutely sure. It wasn't just for the sake of his own knowledge; the DoM was counting on his report in order to decide what this man's sentence would be. He had to finish the scan. Then, when all was said and done, he was going to pull his wife into his arms and hold her tight. Then, he was going to pull all of those disgusting memories out of his sickened brain and place them in an unbreakable vial for Weasley's DoM file and go on with his life with Hermione, blissfully ignorant of the horrors he had learned of, lest he put his fingers around the man's miserable throat and slowly strangle him to death out of sheer loathing for Ronald Bilius Weasley.

* * *

_Hundreds of old photos were scattered around on the floor of the Black family's home. The abused, blackened, and scorched family tree loomed ominously from the wall. The air stunk with the tang of alcohol, and to Ron, it was like coming home._

_Things hadn't been going right ever since Dumbledore had up and died on him. He, Ron Weasley, was supposed to become famous, a bonafide hero, and it was supposed to be all about him for once, and not just because he was the best mate of the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, Harry James Potter. He was supposed to be famous, a hero, become captain of his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, and Hermione was supposed stay at home, tend his house and raise his kids while he lived the life of a Quidditch star. And Ron would get to fully enjoy the attentions of all the gorgeous groupies who would be after a piece of him. That dream life was supposed to be all his. But now?_

_Now, he couldn't even get Hermione to admit that she wanted him, that he was going be the one to give her what he __**knew **__she needed. All this time out in the woods, sharing a tent and he couldn't seem to finagle his way into her prissy little knickers. Bloody hell! _

_She was all happy with Harry, though. That was the only thing he knew for sure from his time out in the Forest of Dean. He was tired of knowing how they lusted after each other when Harry was supposed to belong to his baby sister, the way Dumbledore and his mum had always said it would be. _

_Ginny was supposed to keep Harry satisfied, but no. She said she __**trusted **__him, the stupid bint. _

_Seeing Hermione holding the sniffling, crying supposed saviour of the Wizarding world in her arms made him sick with rage. _

"Not happy with only making _me _unhappy, Hermione? You have to go and break up Harry and my sister too? For someone who acts like such a frigid prude, you're just a bloody slag like the rest of them!"

"Ron!" Hermione protested, her big brown eyes wide with shock, as she continued to rub Harry's back comfortingly. "This isn't about us wanting to be together like _that_. This is about being there for a friend!"

"A friend, is it?" Ron scoffed. "A friend with your arms wrapped so tightly around them, oh so obviously… psh. I'm not that bloody _thick_, Hermione!"

"What are you sodding _on _about, Ron?" Harry had lifted his reddened eyes to stare at his best male friend like he had never really seen him before. "Hermione and I are just friends, just like you and I are! What the ruddy hell is _wrong _with you?"

"The Horcruxes might be gone, but I know that they couldn't really affect you unless there had really been something more than 'just friends' between you and Hermione," Ron seethed, the reek of alcohol on his breath practically strong enough to be flammable. I might not be the bloody Chosen One, but I _had_ been chosen. I _had_ a destiny, and then it was all gone. Dumbledore bloody died and everything went tits up, and now I have to watch to two of you fawning over each other like nifflers on a pile of treasure!"

"Ron," Hermione pleaded, standing up. "Please, don't do this. Not here, not tonight."

" Oh?" Ron hissed, eyes narrowing with spite. "So what time would be more _convenient _for you, huh?"

"That's _enough_, Ron," Harry bit out, standing up, his green eyes darkened with anger.

"No," Ron slurred drunkenly. "It's not bloody _enough_. And this isn't over. Not as long as she's willing to drop her knickers for you after all that time she spent telling me she just wanted to be bloody _sure_." Ron kicked one of the precious photo albums into the fireplace, and then it was on.

Hermione let out a little shriek and went diving towards the fireplace to rescue the album as Ron threw a wild punch directly at Harry's face, sending him sprawling. In retaliation, Harry jumped back up and roughly body checked Ron into the nearby sofa, causing it to skid its way across the worn hardwood floors. All magic was promptly forgotten as the scuffle between supposed friends descended into the madness of a vicious physical altercation.

Vision blurred as blood and sweat combined, but Ron was far from done. He shoved Harry backwards hard, and Harry countered with a swing directly into Ron's flushed face. Ron spotted an opening, and threw his own punch, knocking Harry back into Hermione, sending her flying and slamming the back of her head hard against the Black family tree, causing droplets and smears of her blood to coat the heavily enchanted wall with gore. Due to Harry's attempt to grab her, both Harry's and Hermione's blood had ended up dripping onto the haphazardly scattered photo albums.

Ron, suddenly remembering that he was a wizard with a wand, yanked it out of his sleeve and pointed it at Hermione as she lay back against the wall, temporarily stunned and seeing stars.

"You make me _sick_, Hermione," Ron snarled at her. "I was willing to stick with you despite your bloody books, your prudishness and your stupid little quirks. People expected us to be together, after the war. You know what? Dumbledore said you'd be a handful, but he never once told me you'd be such a fucking _slut_!"

Ron glowered at her, his wand perfectly steady and aimed squarely between her terrified eyes. "You want to be in Harry's life so bad? You want to give up the best thing you could ever have since your precious Viktor left you high and dry? Bloody _fine_. Whatever."

Ron looked like he was going to turn and storm out, but he abruptly swung back and levelled his wand at her forehead. He was shaking and red-faced, caught up in a rush of blind rage. "I wish Hermione Granger had never _**existed**_! Everything would have been perfect if it hadn't been for _**you**_!"

Absolute fury combined with sheer murderous intent as a silent spell came zinging out of Ron's wand in a flash of sickening, putrid green light.

Hermione's body smacked hard against the wall, her eyes clouding over and going unfocused as the spell struck her without even the slightest chance of countering it. Harry's horrified screams rang out loudly in Ron's ears.

"_**Ron**_?! What did you do? What did you just _**do**_?!"

As Harry seemed to switch from a drunken, grief-stricken wizard into a silent, shocked, devastated awareness that something horrific had just occurred and his life would never be the same again, Ron stared blankly at the spot where Hermione had fallen, her head against the elaborate Black family tree, her blood slowly soaking into the very fibres of the tapestry.

Hermione's body jerked wildly as though it was being manipulated by strings, like a possessed marionette. Then her skin started to char and blacken as it was consumed by a burst of raging flame. There was a sound like the keening of dying animal mixed with the roar of a dragon made of fiendfyre. Finally, one last explosion of flame consumed the rest of her body, burning Hermione's remains until nothing was left behind but a pile of fine, black ash. Above the pile of ash was the form of a black phoenix, wings spread as if in flight, superimposed over the entire Black family tree, the image scorched forever into the magical weave of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

As Harry watched the proceedings in a sick, frozen horror, Ron's eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and he passed out cold onto the hardwood floor.

* * *

Severus pulled out of his trace of the murderous redhead's timestream, his black irises having swallowed up the whites of his eyes until nothing was left but a fathomless, Occluded black. Slowly, black flames began to seep out from between his eyelids as his lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl, even as the rest of his face appeared to be utterly blank.

He stared fixedly at Ronald Weasley as he lay in his bed, sound asleep, and utterly oblivious to how much he had just revealed without ever knowing it. Severus stood up, stiffly, and exited the cell, his movements uncharacteristically jerky as parts of him warred with the idea of doing horrible, unspeakable things to the pitiful excuse for a wizard sleeping all too peacefully in his bed.

As Severus left the cell, multiple layers of wards slammed down in his wake and the cell door clicked shut to lock behind him. As Amelia came up to him, her entire face a question, Severus put up his hand, his Occluded black eyes staring coldly through her. The elder witch visibly flinched as Severus simply looked at her dispassionately. He held out his hand, waving his fingers impatiently. "Vial, please."

Amelia just stared at him for a few seconds before suddenly realising what he was asking for. Blinking, she quickly handed him a small, unbreakable crystal vial with the pertinent case number indelibly etched into the side.

Severus curled his lip, pressing his wand to his head as silver streams of memory strands pulled from his mind and filled the vial to the very top. He snapped the lid on the vial and handed it back as the whites of his eyes reappeared and the stark, cold mask finally dissipated.

Hermione walked in from the viewing area, her eyes searching her husband's face. Severus immediately went to her and scooped her up into a tight embrace, engulfing her in his trembling arms and refusing to release her. Hermione's face twisted with the pain of sudden realization.

"It really _is _him," she whispered brokenly, her hands clawing for purchase in his robes as she let loose a small cry of despair.

"I'm here, my love," Severus whispered into her voluminous hair. "He will not part us again. Not him. Not Dumbledore. Not anyone. Not in this life or the next. This I swear."

Hermione clung to him, shuddering, her eyes closing as tears trailed down her face. Composing herself, she then looked up at Amelia and shook her head. "Do whatever you need to do," she said hoarsely. "Just make sure he can never hurt another living thing again, and I'd prefer it if he had to eat spiders the rest of his life."

Amelia stared at the deceptively innocuous-looking vial of memories. She nodded to Hermione and Severus silently. "I will do the review personally and take my findings to the Wizengamot. Thank you, Severus, for doing this for us. I know this couldn't have been an easy thing for either of you"

Severus held his wife close, his hand combing her hair. "If my word stands for anything in this, Amelia," he said darkly. "Turn him into some sort of working beast and make him serve out his penance for life, locked deep inside the confines of his tiny excuse for a brain, but unable to act on anything."

Amelia bowed her head slightly. "I will take your concerns into account as well."

Hermione and Severus nodded to her and prepared to take their leave. "Thank you."

* * *

"She was…" Jean trailed off.

Severin stared off into the garden. "My healing. My hope. My counter curse to a life of soul-numbing servitude."

Jean shook her head. "I can't even imagine, Severin. In my time… In my time you died, saving my life, Harry's—"

"Please do not tell me I saved that dunderheaded, redheaded menace," Severus bit out with a menacing scowl.

Jean snorted. "No. Ron was kept busy saving his brothers during the battle. Her face twisted in remembered pain. "In my world, there were no boundaries or bitter house rivalries. There were only those who survived and those didn't make it. Harry and I were on the run for almost seven years. The Order took out Tom Riddle after he and Dumbledore fought an epic battle and sent him retreating into the woods."

Jean stared into the soothing waters of the hot springs. "We thought that would be the end."

Severin frowned, sensing what likely happened next. "And then things went straight to hell."

Jean nodded. "We thought… we could finally celebrate our victory over the dark, but it just got worse. Much worse. Albus Dumbledore took the throne. In exchange for my… service, he insured that my parents remained blissfully unaware of the horrible things I did during the war."

Severin scowled. "It was a _war_. Surely, they would understand—"

Jean's eyes abruptly darkened with a surge of Occlumency, and Severin's eyes widened in sudden realization.

"You—"

Jean shook her head bitterly. "I was his ace in the hole. I was his carefully-trained assassin. I was his instrument of death, to cull lives as he saw fit. He made you— the Severus in my timeline— train me to become the very best. He took a lethal curse meant for me, buying me the few seconds I needed to get Harry out of danger. I grabbed him. We fled. I never even got to give my Severus a proper burial."

Jean stared skyward. "Ironically, rogue werewolves eventually killed the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore. His grand vision of a magical utopia gave them a seemingly glorious Wolfsbane potion, but the people who made them were left unregulated. It only took a few victims of a bad batch of potion that had been concocted with less expensive, inferior ingredients to make it cheaper, quicker and easier to produce. Naturally, their cost-cutting measures had horrific results. Most of the weres who took the bad potion died. The few that survived were left with no human mind left, no conscience or control at all. The Aurors were forced to hunt them down and kill them.

Severin seemed as if he was about to say something more. Instead, his hand twitched spasmodically.

"What is it, Severin?" Jean asked, her eyes narrowed, missing nothing.

"The Albus of my time... once asked me to come up with an improved Wolfsbane potion," Severin replied with a sigh. "He said it would be crucial for the future, but when he saw the ingredient list and realised— by the time I worked out the entire formula, Lupin had left Hogwarts. Then, Albus managed to curse himself by attempting to wear a bloody Horcrux. Everything went pear-shaped after that."

Jean looked at him with something indefinable in her eyes "I am almost… gladdened that this is not the same timeline I came from, Severin. I've seen the werewolves frolicking, actually _frolicking_ happily in the garden. I've watched the wolf rise up in Master Lupin's eyes and there is no hostility there. There is only the peaceful wolf, not some pain and rage driven, tortured creature that is compelled to hunt humans."

Severin nodded thoughtfully. "If I'd had any idea all this was possible without a potion of some sort, there would have been a great many things I would have had to re-evaluate. I just… " Severin trailed off, considering all the possibilities. "I truly wonder what it would have been like had Albus not worked so hard to keep me basically fighting blind and under a very bitter and lonely yoke of servitude."

Jean's small, warm hand covered his. "I'm sorry. If you're anything like me, touch is," she said with a pause, "something almost foreign, but I want you to know I truly understand. I also think you are a very interesting man to know, and I would like to know that man even better, if you would be agreeable."

Severin resembled a deer in a lumos spell. He swallowed hard. "You are far braver than I."

Jean scoffed at that. "I'm thirty-eight years old, Severin. I've survived a great many things. I'm entirely too old to beat around the bush when I finally meet someone who understands how it is to be a slave under the whip of an unrelenting taskmaster. I've taken multiple lives, Severin, and I've felt sincere remorse for every. single. one."

Severin closed his hand over Jean's with a gentle, unpracticed touch and looked her in the eyes quite seriously. "I would like to know you better as well, Jean."

Jean smiled as she slipped into the hot springs, not letting go of Severin's hand. She pulled him off balance, making him put his non-waterproofed book on the nearby seat before he was dragged down into the water.

The next morning, they were still there in each other's arms, wrinkled like prunes from the hot spring's warm waters.

When the two house-elves arrived to give them fresh towels and bathrobes, the pair walked off into the garden together.

"Things be looking better!" Tubby whispered happily into Zilly's interested, raised ear.

Zilly bobbed her head excitedly. "I wonders if Mistress Jean will be wanting to move her tent closer, now?"

Tubby scratched his chin thoughtfully. "We can moves it for her!"

Zilly broke into a wide grin.

_Fwoop!_

The two elves Disapparated.

* * *

_Saturday, June 30th, 1979. Waxing Crescent 31%_

Hermione fidgeted as the house-elves tugged and pulled her wedding dress this way and that to make it absolutely "perfect." The long, white sleeves flared out beautifully at her wrists and the pure white silk gently draped over her body and down to the floor in an elegant train. A slender gossamer belt that seemed as though it was somehow braided with tiny stars lay against her waist and trailed to the floor.

The dress itself was much more simple than Walburga had perhaps wished for, but Hermione had insisted that she had to be able to walk in it without needing the prescribed twenty-eight house-elves to help carry the train. Hermione had given a sigh of great relief when Minerva had agreed to have her wedding on the same day as herself and Severus, switching the focus of what was desired as a theme to what Minerva and Barberry wanted. Happily, what her former masters had wanted was a nice, small affair in the gardens of the Barberry estate, and Hermione and Severus had whole-heartedly agreed with that while saying private prayers to Merlin, Hera, Frigga, Ziva, the Vermilion Bird of the South, White Tiger of the West, the Black Tortoise of the North, and the Green Dragon of the East just to cover as many bases as possible. Part of her was a tiny bit paranoid that Lord Voldemort would somehow spring out of the wedding cake and cackle "surprise!" just before slaughtering them along with all of their guests, so she secretly wanted a wedding dress she could cast spells in, if necessary, without tripping all over herself.

Tala and Hope figeted next to her as they were being dressed as bridesmaids. Violent Vinetender stood strangely still without any fuss whatsoever, allowing the enthusiastic house-elves to poke, prod, and wrangle her garments to their little hearts' desire. Viktor chirped curiously from her shoulder, dressed to the nines in his own phoenix bridal-party wear. He had a tiny silver crown on his head and green and silver ribbons woven into his tail. Narcissa had her arms held out at her sides as the elves worked on her, but she seemed rather nonplussed about the entire affair. She was born a Black, Hermione figured. Blacks grew up needing at least two extra sets of hands to help a person dress for almost every occasion including merely showing up for breakfast during the holidays.

"I'm sure I look stunning," Violet said after a while, "but I cannot help but think someone has actually dressed me in a jester's outfit complete with little tinkling bells."

Hermione chuckled warmly. "You look _gorgeous_, Violet."

Violet smiled at her. "I'll trust you on that."

Viktor warbled his clear approval, and Violet seemed to relax a bit.

Minerva came in with house-elves trailing after her. "Are you ready, Hermione? I'm starting to seriously consider running off to Gretna Green to elope."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, my Master."

Minerva huffed. "Minerva, Hermione. No more of that 'Master' business for you anymore, and, so help me, if you call me Headmistress in front of anyone but the Board of Governors, I'm going to spoil your children rotten, then load them up on sugary things and send them home to _you _when I'm all done."

Hermione sputtered and waved her off. She took in the sight of Minerva's elegant, yet form fitting dress. She had long-sleeved robes that draped down from her shoulders with a fine cascade. Her robes were also made of silk but in a refined silver-grey with a pearl grey brocade and matching seed pearls spreading downwards from her bosom. A lovely silk belt wrapped across her waist. Two almost transparent pink diamonds hung from her ears. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, with two ornamental hair sticks that held her impeccable hair in place. One was carved in the shape of a cat; the other in the form of an English robin.

Hermione caught her breath and then let it out slowly. "You're _so _beautiful, Minerva."

Minerva flushed prettily. "Well, one fine advantage to this double wedding is that we get to share bridesmaids and groomsmen. Is everyone ready?"

Multiple vigorous nods went around the room.

"Excellent," Minerva smiled. "Now let's go get married!"

* * *

Orion took both Hermione and Minerva by the arm and led them down the path to an elegant archway woven out of white birch trees. Fawkes perched on the very top of the arch, and Severus' and Hermione's phoenix mums were perched on Orion's broad shoulders. They warbled the wedding march in various octaves, echoed by Fawkes' mate, Audra, their grown-up chicks, and all of the other phoenixes that were perched on the garlands. Phoenixes of various shapes, sizes, and colourations warbled happily, apparently having chosen to fly their way out of the slipstreams specifically to attend the joyous proceedings. A respectable collection of fluffy little chicks peeped in smaller lines on their very own garland.

Huge, dark shapes moved around the edges of the seating area. Leonine, bestial faces watched over the proceedings, still more phoenixes perched on their heads and backs. Centaurs stood beside them, their bows pulled back and pointed down in respect.

Meliton stood directly under the arch, his flanks covered with a blanket of white, gossamer flowers. His ears flicked as he smiled at both Hermione and Minerva. Severus and Gilford walked up from behind the arch and met their respective intendeds as Orion went to find his seat next to Walburga. In the semi-circle of seating around the two couples, Klaus Shattenjäger stood across from his date, Agatha Portendorfer. Violet Vinetender stood across from Stephan Beardog. Hope stood across from Alastor. Tala stood across from Remus, and Narcissa stood across from Lucius.

"We gather here under the field of planets and stars to bear witness to a great and glorious event. The greatest star shines above us all and brings us light and warmth, driving away the darkness that can chill the bone and hide our enemies. Today, however, we think not of enemies. Today, we think of victory and of the joining of two couples who would become mates," Meliton announced. "Today, we look kindly upon the blessings of a herd united and the even greater blessing of a herd expanded in caring, friendship and love. We unite with trust in the ones beside us, and we rejoice in the lives we share together. Trust, love, compassion, and solidarity brings us all together. We are here as brothers, sisters, sires, and dams. We are here as trusted allies, and we join in peaceful celebration."

Meliton ignited the incense and swept it over the two couples. "As the smoke passes over you, may your fears be forgotten. May your pains disappear. May you be joined in purity of purpose and the strength of a love united. May that which is joined here only grow stronger. May it weather every storm, stand strong after every gust, and rise as a beacon of hope in the times that may be shrouded in darkness."

Meliton took out strands of ivy and wrapped them around each couple's hands and wrists. He put his hands on Severus and Gilford's shoulders.

"Do you, Severus and Gilford, promise to stand by your mates in all times, joyous and grim, fearful and solemn, in hard times and bountiful, in weakness and strength, and when opinions differ and unite?"

"I do," Severus and Gilford chimed together.

"Do you promise to provide for your mate, both in nourishment and in companionship and the bounty of the hunter and the that of the mind and soul?"

"I do," they chimed again.

"Do you promise to listen as well as lead, to bend rather than break, to summon calm when there is anger, to offer an ear when there is conflict, and to share wisdom rather than hoard it?"

"I do."

"Do you promise offer respect both in strength and in weakness, to offer succor when there is pain, and to lend help in all tasks no matter how large or small?" Meliton continued.

"I do," Severus and Gilford replied.

Meliton put his hands on Hermione and Minerva. "Do you, Hermione and Minerva, promise to stand by your mates in all times, joyous and grim, fearful and solemn, in hard times and bountiful, in weakness and strength, and when opinions differ and unite?"

"I do," Hermione and Minerva replied, nodding.

"Do you promise to provide for your mate, both in nourishment and in companionship and the bounty of the hunter and the that of the mind and soul?"

"I do," they said together.

"Do you promise to listen as well as lead, to bend rather than break, to summon calm when there is anger, to offer an ear when there is conflict, and to share wisdom rather than hoard it?"

"I do," they agreed together, smiling.

"Do you promise offer respect both in strength and in weakness, to offer succor when there is pain, and to lend help in all tasks no matter how large or small?" Meliton continued.

"I do," Minerva and Hermione said, beaming.

Meliton tied the ivy together on both couples. "May you both live long together under the stars. May you walk together under the shifting of the planets, and may the sun always end your coldest nights as the moon brings you peace from the heat of day. May you find in each other the joy of completeness, and may you be blessed with the tread of many foals."

The centaur around the clearing pointed their bows into the air and let their arrows fly. They arched above the gathered, their fletching bursting into flames as they transformed into multi-coloured comets.

Meliton politely stepped back as Minister Eugenia Jenkins walked forward. She pulled out two ring boxes and smiled. She opened each one and placed rings on both couple's hands while they were still bound in strands of ivy.

Eugenia Jenkins nodded respectfully to Meliton as she clasped both couple's hands in hers. "I, Eugenia Jenkins, Minister for Magic, do joyously witness the magical bonding and marriage of Lord and Lady Severus and Hermione Snape and Masters Gilford and Minerva Barberry. May you walk your lives in balance as Magic blesses your union. May these rings, united in a circle, symbolize your unity, equality, solidarity, and love."

"I now present to you, Lord and Lady Severus and Hermione Snape and Masters Gilford and Minerva Barberry."

Eugenia leaned in between them. "You may now kiss the brides."

Severus and Gilford grinned at each other and then leaned down, capturing their wive's mouths with theirs as a surge of warm magic blew out from their joined magical cores.

Wild cheering rose from the gathered crowd as the newly-married and officially-married couples strode down the aisle to the garden reception.

* * *

The wedding guests made their way to clusters of round, grey marble tables and chairs which had been set up under the intertwined canopies of massive oak trees surrounding a covered gazebo. Multiple strings of sparkling fairy lights had been wrapped around the tree limbs to provide a festive atmosphere. The tables were covered with starched white linen tablecloths and each table contained a large crystal vase filled with sweetly-scented English roses in shades of white, ivory, cream yellow, delicate pink and the palest of silvery blues. Fine crystal champagne flutes waited at each place setting with silver-grey cloth napkins tucked inside to resemble a flower.

Above every table was a suspended basket filled with soft fibers and an assortment of tempting fresh fruits, and each basket naturally attracted an appreciative phoenix or three. Under the baskets hung softly glowing paper lanterns with small clusters of fairies inside to provide additional soft lighting. There was a long table going down each side without any chairs, designed specifically to cater to their centaur guests and their foals. The long tables had strings hung with various smoked meats and fish, baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables as well as a few traditional centaur dishes that had been prepared for the special occasion. A special chairless setting was connected to the wedding party table for Meliton and his lovely mate, Aarah.

Quills and parchments had been laid out on each table, challenging each guest to offer their bets on guesses on the particulars of the firstborn child for the House of Snape as well as the Barberry family. Someone had edited the parchments to include species guesses, and it didn't take long for Orion Black to shoot a very sharp glare at his two sons. Sirius' and Regulus' eyes went wide and they both tried to slither under the table to avoid his intense scrutiny, only to then be thoroughly slobbered on by Acer the three-headed under-the-table guard. Fortunately, the people in the know wrote down their serious bets while those in the dark about the Black family's magical blessing figured it was an inside joke of some sort and cheerfully offered up their guesses anyway.

The wedding buffet started with a murmur of confusion as Master Barberry welcomed everyone to partake of it before the head table. The house-elves scrambled to provide the elf-made champagne and wine, honey mead, and the ever coveted aged Scotch whiskey from Gilford's extensive cellar. Rumour had it that Barberry made his own whiskey and that he squeezed the oldest and most flavourful drops out of the casks by special spells.

For those who preferred the non-alcoholic fare along with the drinks safe for children, butterbeer, tea, lemonade, and pumpkin juice circled the crowd.

The centaurs brought out a large vat of what they called Celestial Cider, pressed from apples picked under the kiss of the moon just after the frost. It had aged for some time, and the taste caused wide eyes and excited conversation. It seemed as though the vat never went down, and unlike the alcoholic version, it was safe for all ages. As each guest drank from the goblets of Celestial Cider, they watched the stars come alive above them. Great dragons flew across the cosmos as brave heroes fought ancient monsters.

"You really know how to brew a drink, Meliton," Gilford said with an appreciative smile, toasting the centaur leader.

Meliton smiled. "It is the specialty of every harvest's end. It is a festival drink, made to be shared amongst the entire herd on special occasions and last from sunrise to sunset. A wedding seemed like a special enough occasion considering three of our most beloved herd members are joining together. Tell me, Gilford, how do you feel about having centaurs for in-laws?"

Gilford smiled as there was excited squealing emitting from the side of the clearing as the foals found the baskets of gold, pink, and red apples. "Truly blessed, my friend. I am relieved that two great weights are off our shoulders and we can come together in celebration rather than mourning."

Meliton smiled warmly. The house elves were carrying around fruit and cheese platters and platters of delectable miniature Cheshire cheese-herb quiches. lemon-dill cucumber tea sandwiches, and smoked salmon tartlets with asparagus and onion to supplement the dinners.

Guests were loading their plates up with filets of Scottish beef with marrow dumplings, smoked breasts of quail with black raspberry puree, herb-encrusted Welsh rack of lamb, and red prawns with coconut-passionfruit salad. The centaur happily indulged themselves with the centaur-friendly foods

Meliton chuckled as the foals discovered the olive bar that the Time Lords, the name the displaced masters had chosen for themselves, had set up. By placing a small bowl under one end, they could press the crystals out in front and make their own anti-pasta dish. As it turned out, the foals absolutely adored olives, and Meliton bartered with the time-displaced masters in the most traditional way possible: he traded the recipe for his own prized recipe for smoked lox that had taken the appetizer table by storm, and securing a promise that they come visit the herd's main encampment to set them up with some olive trees and teach them how to tend them. The masters could only agree. The foals, oblivious to the avid bartering, were perfectly happy monopolising the olive bar in their blissful obliviousness.

The gruyere, potato, and parsnip gratin, purple sprouting broccoli with hazelnuts, and haricots verts Lyonnaise were attracting serious phoenix attention, and guests were often eating and sharing their dinners at the same time. No one seemed to mind as such a magnificent gathering of phoenixes had never been seen before. The Weasley children were all trying to lure a few phoenixes out of their centerpiece baskets with the barley, pea, and mint salad with goat cheese as well as their marinated heirloom tomato salad so they didn't have to eat it, much to Molly's dismay.

To top Molly's embarrassment due to her brood's antics, Bill and Charlie Weasley had hoarded a pile of the caramel-pecan fudge tarts and dark chocolate dipped strawberries and they were enjoying feeding the treats to the visiting chimeras. Each chimaera simply opened their mouth and let the children put their entire arm into their mouth in order to deliver the pastry to the middle of their tongue. The chimaera's patiently waited for each boy to remove their arm and then munched on the offered sweets.

Molly was in an absolute panic. Arthur, however, was laughing with sheer delight.

Percy had made a new friend in a small phoenix chick he had "rescued" from one of the hanging baskets. While the watching mother phoenix loomed nearby, Percy lifted up his hands to bring the small and fluffy green chick up to the cake table. The little chick was pecking away furiously at the fruit cake to steal the candied fruits, and ever so often he would stop and share some of his spoils with Percy, much to the little boy's delight. By the time Molly had found him, the entire fruit cake looked like swiss cheese, and the older witch came unglued, dragging her giggly son back to the table with her. Meanwhile, the fluffy green chick peeped mournfully from inside the hollowed out fruitcake, having lost his human accomplice in fruitcake raiding.

The sad peeping attracted many more children, and soon there were a number of said children "assisting" the lonely chick in stuffing his very hungry beak as well as offering him cuddles and carries around the wedding grounds. By the time the adults realised why their children weren't at their prospective tables, it was too late. The wedding fruitcake had been completely devoured.

Minerva and Barberry laughed wholeheartedly as Severus and Hermione looked resigned to a lifetime surrounded by ever-hungry lintballs. Thankfully, the phoenixes seemed impartial to the lavender honey creme brulee, the caramel-pecan fudge tarts, and the Scottish shortbread hearts. The dark chocolate-dipped strawberries, however, attracted even adult phoenix attention, and many of them were perched around the dessert table looking longingly at the strawberry bowl—too polite to simply dive in without manners but much too hungry to ignore the sight of such a wonderful bounty of tempting fresh strawberries.

In the end, when it was officially time for dessert, both couples ended up cutting up the pecan tarts and tenderly feeding each other the halves before distributing the rest to the guests. Fully half of the chocolate-dipped strawberries went to their avian guests, but there was still more than enough to feed the regular guests thanks to the adult phoenixes not being quite as ravenous as their smaller insistently open-beaked progeny. At one point, house-elves appeared with freshly-dipped replacement tray of the coveted chocolate covered fruits, and everyone was happy. The fluffy chicks, stomachs distended from their fruit cake raid, sat in the centerpiece hanging baskets, softly peeping in drowsy delight.

As the desserts disappeared, the dance floor opened up quite literally as a circular platform rose from the ground and introduced the Wizarding band Abba, who had already made themselves an enormous hit in the Muggle world. They began with a Scottish traditional, and the two wedding couples danced together. Minerva and Barberry made it look so terribly easy. Hermione and Severus faked it admirably, as if they hadn't been apprentices paying attention to their masters' every move just yesterday.

Once the traditional dance was over, the band put down their violins and bagpipes and began to sing their big hit, _Dancing Queen_. Orion swept in, sweeping his little chick into his arms to dance with her, causing Severus to blush as the older wizard proved to everyone that he was not exactly unfamiliar with _all _forms of modern social dance. Walburga watched with a slightly amused but proud expression, which for her was a beaming expression of pure joy.

Denebola appeared in one of the hanging baskets quite randomly, and much to the guest's surprise, he was accompanied by his (previously unknown) lady Kneazle. An even bigger surprise was the twelve fluffy kittens that peered out from the basket over where Argus and Rosmerta had been chatting, and the lot of them descended upon Mrs Norris, Bubbles, and Ogden with playful kitten enthusiasm. Baby phoenixes met baby Kneazles in a showdown of total cuteness. The baby phoenixes, driven to share with their new friends, tried to stuff the Kneazles with tidbits of the stolen fruitcake. The baby Kneazles seemed utterly confused, but they pounced and chased after the young birds. Mrs Norris seemed slightly confused as how to act and eventually decided on exploring the grounds.

James and Sirius attempted to slip something into the punch bowl, but as they were about to put something into it, a large, dark shadow loomed over them. Severin Snape scowled down at them, his face twisted into a scowl of pure disdain. The two tricksters gaped and hurriedly backpedaled, scurrying off to find other, safer pursuits to occupy their time.

Severin shook his head as Severus came up and ladled up some punch. "Are all these family affairs always so..." he started to ask, "ah, extensive?"

Severus chuckled at the older and more battle-weary version of himself. "This is apparently quite light in comparison to what Lady Walburga would have preferred to arrange for us. Thankfully, Masters McGonagall and Barberry were adamant that our weddings be held together and that the affair remain free of the elaborate fuss they all-too-frequently saw in their youth."

Severin sighed as the Minister for Magic came up and helped herself to a glass of the punch. "I think I'm going to reserve that tree right by the seaside. At least then, if things get too long and arduous in the ceremony and social acrobatics, I can simply throw myself off of the cliff when and if things get too excruciating."

"Severin," Jean scolded, making her way up to the punch bowl. Severin handed her some punch to placate her, having been holding it the entire time in his effort to get back to the table.

"I did not survive this long just to succumb to death by tiresome social torture," Severin said with a sniff. "There surely must be a better way."

Jean crossed her arms. "It's a wedding, Severin. It's _supposed _to be a memorable occasion."

"Explosive diarrhea is a memorable occasion, Jean," Severin quipped. "That does not make it one of those things I would care to experience, much less remember fondly."

Jean scowled darkly, reflecting his own disdainful look right back at him.

Severin sighed. "No? Well, if one must endure these interminably tedious social occasions, one might as well take advantage of the circumstance."

He went down on one knee and took her hand in his. "Marry me. Here. Right now."

Jean's jaw dropped to the ground in total shock.

"Oh?" Severin said, pulling a small box out of his robes. "What's this?" He opened it, pulling out a shining ring. "I seem to have a ring. How fortuitous."

"I, but," Jean stammered. "But, we… what about the paperwork? We don't have a minister? How do you know you can put up with me for longer than a year? How—"

Severin stood up and pulled the Minister of Magic over with a knowing, smug quirk of his lips. "Hello, Minister Jenkins. I was wondering, if it would not be too much trouble, if you could do us the honour of marrying us? I seem to have a witch and a ring, and it would be a shame if she escaped me on such a lovely day as today."

Jean babbled incoherently as Eugenia Jenkins clapped excitedly.

"I love weddings!" Eugenia exclaimed. "Weddings during weddings are even better!" She threw her official Minister's stole over her shoulders.

Jean stared into Severin's eyes, her face twisted into something both scared and elated.

"Marry me," Severin asked, softly and seriously. "Be my witch. Allow me to be the only snarky bastard you will have through sickness and in health."

Jean burst into tears and proceeded to sob in his arms. "Yes, yes! You terrible, wonderful, arrogant, smug man!"

"I think you forgot snarky and some other less flattering adjectives," Severin noted with a teasing smirk.

Jean silenced him with a searing kiss straight to the mouth.

There was a warm rush of magic that blew across the wedding grounds.

Minister for Magic Eugenia Jenkins clapped with delight. "As a witness to your magical union, I now pronounce you bonded for life!"

Severus tapped the pair on the shoulder and handed them a pecan tart. "The fruitcake has been devoured by our avian interlopers, but there are still some of these delightful pecan tarts left. Far be it for me to deny a bit of tradition in life."

Severin placed the glittering ring on Jean's slender ring finger, broke the pecan tart in two with his deft fingers, and very elegantly placed half in her mouth.

"Happy Anniversary, my wife," Severin said very, very smugly.

Jean took the other piece and pressed it to his lips. "I'll get you for this, my husband," Jean stared at him fondly as he savoured his half of the tart.

Severin smiled genuinely. "I look forward to every minute of it. I do hope this means you will no longer be sleeping out in a tent in the orchard anymore."

Jean looked at him coyly. "Why, no, my darling. That is where I intend to send you when you misbehave."

* * *

"What are they saying, brother?" Regulus asked.

Sirius shook his head. "I can't tell, they are speaking in Dutch!"

"Father knows Dutch?" Regulus boggled.

Sirius sighed. "Of course he does."

"I have a translation charm I can cast, but it causes you see the language written in English," Regulus suggested.

"Better than nothing, brother," Sirius encourage. "Do it!"

Regulus shrugged and pulled out his wand. "Okay," he said in the same tone he usually saved for phrases like, "your funeral, brother."

Orion leaned comfortably up against the orchard tree as Evelyn examined the night-blooming flowers. "_Evelyn, vertel eens, hoe vind je het tot nu als een Auror._"

**("So, Evelyn, how do you like being an Auror?")**

"_Ik vind het een heel interessante en uitdagende baan, Lord Black. En ik kan mijn dierlijke vorm eindelijk voor mijn werk gebruiken waar ik ontzettend blij mee ben._" Evelyn replied with a smile. **("I find it to be a very exciting and challenging career, Lord Black. And I can finally use my Animagus form in my work, which is a great delight for me.")**

Sirius squinted to read the small magical writing.

Orion nodded. "I'm sure it's been quite an interesting change for you being here. _Heb je het naar je zin hier in Engeland_?" **("Have you been enjoying your time here in England?")**

Evelyn nodded excitedly. "Ja, ontzettend. Ik heb het zo getroffen. Engeland is een erg interessant en gevarieerd land. En de mensen laten je je snel thuisvoelen. Vooral je zoon, Sirius. Hij…. betekent heel veel voor me. " **("Very much so. I am so fortunate. England is a very interesting and diverse country, and the people have all been so welcoming. Especially your son, Sirius. He is… quite special to me.")**

Sirius blushed as he read the translation. Regulus seemed to have wandered off, wisely choosing not to get caught eavesdropping on his father during one of his private chats.

"O ja, ik had al het idee dat jij en Sirius elkaar erg leuk vinden. Wat vind je tot dusver van mijn zoon? Dat wil zeggen afgezien van zijn nogal dierlijke aantrekkingskracht," Orion replied. **("Ah yes, I understand you and Sirius have taken quite an interest in each other. What do you think of my son so far? Apart from his somewhat obvious animal magnetism, that is.")**

Evelyn laughed and flushed slightly. "_Sirius is….erg leuk om mee om te gaan. Ik heb nog nooit iemand ontmoet waar ik zo'n klik mee had. Hij zegt dat hij hetzelfde voor mij voelt,_" **("Sirius is… a lot of fun. I have never before met someone I have felt so much in tune with. He tells me that he feels much the same about me.")**

Sirius grinned. This was so much better than having a heart to heart!

Orion stroked his beard, his fingers running across the flawless lines of his immaculate facial hair. "Enne, wat denk je van kinderen. Ik moet het helaas toch vragen. In het bijzonder magische kinderen. In onze tak van de familie Black komen nog wel eens…..aparte magische kinderen voor." **("So… how do you feel about children? I am afraid I really must ask. Magical children specifically. Somewhat… unusual magical children tend to run in our particular branch of the Black family.")**

Sirius swallowed very hard. He hadn't brought up his family's propensity to have magically Kissed children in the very literal sense. It just hadn't come up yet. He didn't want to ruin the mood or scare her away. Maybe when she got used to his sister and her Lord husband—

Evelyn blushed prettily, then glanced up at him through her dark eyelashes. "_O, bedoel je dat ze heel erg begaafd zijn?_" **("Oh, do you mean they are especially talented?")**

"_Ja, dat ook,_" Orion replied with a slight smile. "_Ze komen nog wel eens ter wereld op manieren die je nogal bij blijven. Al brandend, bijvoorbeeld._" **(Well, they are that. They tend to enter the world in ways that cannot be anything but memorable. On fire, for example.)**

Sirius tried not to choke too loudly. Stealth was hard.

Evelyn's eyes widened comically. "_Ik geloof niet dat ik ooit gehoord heb over dat er brandende kinderen geboren werd in mijn familie. Mijn moeder vertelde wel eens dat ik geboren ben met hondenoren en een staart, maar ik dacht altijd dat ze mij voor de gek hield. Ik werd een Animagus op mijn achtste. Mijn buurman was een St. Bernardshond. Tenminste, meestal. Dat wil zeggen…...hij was een Animagus die in de Alpen lawineslachtoffers redde. Ik reed vaak mee op zijn rug en toen werd ik op een dag een cocker spaniel." __**(**_**I don't think I've ever heard any accounts of flaming children being born into my family. My mum told me I was born with dog ears and a tail, but I always thought that was just mum trying to tease me. I became an Animagus at the age of eight. My neighbor was a St Bernard. Well, he was most of the time. I mean… He was an Animagus who rescued avalanche victims in the Alps. I used to ride around on him all the time, and then suddenly, one day, I became a cocker spaniel.)**

Sirius perked up with intense interest. Now things were getting interesting! He hadn't really discussed her Animagus form with her at all. They had too much time enjoying the sights and scents together while rampaging across London to quibble over technicalities.

"_Mams vond dat het wel bij mij paste,_" Evelyn confided rather wistfully. "_En, paps gaf me een vlooienband voor mijn verjaardag."_ _**("Mum thought it quite fitting.**_ **And Papa gave me a flea collar for my birthday.")**

"_Gelukkig, hebben wij daar zelf een middeltje voor,_" Orion commented with considerable amusement. **(Fortuitously, we do have a tonic for that.)**

"_O, dat zou ik inderdaad veel liever hebben,"_ Evelyn agreed with excitement. **("Oh! That would be quite lovely!")**

Orion smiled. "_Het zou fijn zijn als je vaker langskomt, Evelyn. Ik heb liever dat jij hier op bezoek komt dan dat die eigenzinnige zoon van mij, met jou op sleeptouw, op vier poten door heel Londen aan het rondneuzen is en intussen zijn familie verwaarloost."_

**("It will be good to see more of you, Evelyn. I would have you stop by more instead of allowing my wayward son drag you across London on all fours and forget there is family." )**

Sirius lowered himself in the vegetation.

Evelyn nodded. "I would enjoy that, Lord Black," she replied politely in an effort to attempt more fluid English."

"_Uitstekend,"_ **("Excellent,") **Orion said with a smile. "_Pluk je eigenaardige date dan maar gauw uit de bosjes en ga maar lekker terug naar de bruiloftsreceptie. Veel plezier samen." _("**Now, you can go pick your curious date out of the bushes and rejoin the wedding reception. I hope you enjoy yourself." )**

"_Dank u, Lord Black,_"**("Thank you, Lord Black,") **Evelyn said, bowing slightly in respect.

"_Oh enne, Evelyn_" **("Oh, and Evelyn?")** Orion gave the young woman a significant look.

"_Ja?"_ **("Yes?")**

"Als Sirius ooit lastig is," **("If Sirius ever he gives you any trouble,")** Orion said serenely, "_knijp hem dan maar met twee vingers in zijn nek, kijk maar, hier."_ ("**pinch the back of his neck between your fingers right here.") **He patted the back of his neck in a very specific place.

Evelyn's brown eyes sparkled with mirth. She offered Orion a rather mischievous smile and wandered back up the path to reclaim her date.

* * *

When Honey found herself faced with the imposing patriarch of the Black family, her pale eyes widened. The man was not exceedingly tall, yet he stood like a man who might be a giant., possessing an aura of sheer power that was practically tangible. Only instead of carrying a club and exhibiting a tendency toward physical violence, Orion Black was exuding a calm, cool, and relaxed, yet utterly confident demeanor. He managed to do it while casually leaning up against an apple tree and then walked straight through the field of chimaeras that had taken up residence in the periphery of the wedding reception.

Despite choosing to remain removed from the thick of things, it wasn't as though the rather more exotic guests were being shunned in any way, shape or form. The happy little house-elves kept them supplied with a wide range of carnivore-friendly entrees that leaned towards the decidedly rare side, and the centaurs clearly found these more beastly guests to be quite fascinating company. Each chimaera had at least one phoenix taking up residence on their back, but many had an entire family, complete with fluffy chicks. The symbiosis taking place utterly fascinated Honey. It was so much like her bees and the Armenian wax weavers that built the grand matrices which helped the beehives to remain strong for the protection of the growing larvae.

Honey smiled with obvious pleasure. She truly loved watching such a fine example of teamwork in action. As Orion walked through the gathered chimaeras, each one rubbed their jaw respectfully along his, and he, despite being quite human at the moment, returned the gesture in kind. It seemed so natural and almost like he was rallying the troops before battle, yet there was no sign of tension or war looming. It was so peaceful. Even more amusing to Honey was the fact that no one at the wedding seemed overly concerned by the exotic quality of the celebration. Things had truly changed for the better. The air seemed lighter. Even the bees seemed happier. They were producing honey day and night, so much so that she was hard pressed to harvest it before the hive was full again. Surely, that was a sign that the world was in a much happier place.

"Miss Lovegood," Orion said as he drifted towards her, his feet making very little sound as he walked. "I'm very pleased to meet you at last."

"Lord Black," Honey greeted, bowing slightly into a graceful curtsey.

"Please, walk with me," Orion invited, pausing only slightly to finger a ripe apple from the orchard tree. A phoenix chick promptly appeared on the branch and peeped appealingly at Orion, its bright blue eyes as wide as its open beak.

Orion chuckled, biting into the fruit and tenderly feeding the hungry phoenix chick. Piece by piece, the little chick devoured his apple bits and then rubbed against his fingers before disappearing again.

"It's quite like a phoenix preserve here," Honey commented, her opalescent eyes twinkling with clear amusement.

"I don't think the Masters Barberry are complaining," Orion chuckled.

Honey smiled. "I don't imagine they would. I heard the Barberry's chatting with some magizoologists. They've agreed to open their estate for them to come study them as long as they do not attempt to influence their behaviour unnecessarily."

Orion looked over to the head table, watching his daughter and Severus hugging their phoenix mothers with moist eyes. His Lady wife suddenly had sienna brown phoenix with copper eyes clinging to her chest, and the two mothers of his daughter chick seemed to come to an agreement. Walburga's face softened, and she embraced the female phoenix, one tear trailing down her face.

"I hear you are apprenticing under Professor Sprout come next term," Orion said casually. "I'm sure you are quite excited, yes?"

"Oh!" Honey said, turning away from the phoenix antics. "I am, Lord Black. "She's such a wonderful mentor, and I am so very happy she believes I am worthy of continuing my studies with her."

Orion smiled with a quirk of his lips. "Somehow, I think she is far more happy to have one such as you learning to take up the mantle, my dear."

Honey flushed. "I could only hope."

Orion walked with her though the orchard away from the laughter and chattering of the other wedding guests. "When I was a younger man, I had my own passion for growing things. When I was at Durmstrang, we created a arboretum in the center of the school. I and a handful of others who had the interest. We managed to harbour quite a few colonies of bowtruckles."

"Very healthy!" Honey said with obvious admiration.

"Alas, my father did not seem to think herbology was a fitting career path for a son of the Black family," Orion said. "I was encouraged to take up more martial interests. Secretly, my mother had me cultivate her an herb garden 'for the use of our house elves. It was the finest source of lemon basil and Greek oregano this side of the pond. I'm fairly certain that she sold off clippings to pad my Gringott's account for the future. She was, after all, a highly practical sphinx."

Honey chuckled softly. "I have a very special lemon basil patch in my garden at home. Mum told me she got it from a very special garden once upon a time. She said it was a fairy garden."

Orion lifted a brow. "Well, where there are bowtruckles—"

Honey grinned. "I would love to see your garden, Lord Black."

Orion gave a gallant shrug. "As I understand it, you will soon be due for a visit to our home, seeing as you have quite taken the fancy of my youngest son."

Honey flushed becomingly at that, her pale, moon-kissed skin seeming to glow rather more pink than usual. "I find him very charming."

Orion's lips twitched. "He does have a reputation of being somewhat of a bee-charmer. Perhaps that is something of a quirk of fate."

Honey shuffled her feet like a shy little school-girl. "I care for him very much. He sees me for who I really am, the whole person, while most others seem preoccupied with just how different I am. I find that quite refreshing," she admitted rather bashfully.

Orion's eyes warmed. "So, tell me, Miss Lovegood," he inquired smoothly. "Why the glamour?" He splayed his fingers across his face and twirled them around.

Honey flushed brightly. "Um. It's a Lovegood family tradition. The story as I understand it, began a long time ago, when the Lovegood family was brand-new. Its women were quite powerful, but all people ever saw in them was their physical beauty. My ancestors had many, many ardent suitors but the Lovegood women became very disheartened because none of them were valued for what lay on the inside. So, my ancestor's father cast a glamour upon all of his daughters so that the only people who could see their true faces were those who truly cared for them."

Orion smiled understandingly. He plucked a gooseberry from the nearby bush and bit into it only to have a fluffy green chick land on his shoulder and cheep obnoxiously, its beak wide open. The elder Black shook his head, held the piece of uneaten gooseberry between his teeth and let the hungry chick peck at it. "You are a fine, talented, charming, and remarkably beautiful young lady, Miss Lovegood. I know my son is quite taken with you, and I can certainly see why. You need not hide yourself behind an ancestor's inability to encourage their daughter to make their own choices as to whom they should love. The journey is often the part of life few seem to remember is just as important as the arrival."

Orion scratched the chick under the chin as it seemed sated at last. "Perhaps, my dear," he said idly. "It would be gratifying, don't you think, if you were to come to conclusions on your own? I think you are far too intelligent and observant to allow some gormless sycophant to sidle up to you spouting endless reams of meaningless drivel in hopes of winning your favour, hrm?"

Honey looked up at Orion, meeting his knowing gaze. She smiled at him warmly. She fingered the locket around her neck and opened it, releasing the magic within. Her features blurred and then solidified again. Long, platinum blonde hair now framed her pale, porcelain face— her finely chiseled, almost ethereally beautiful face. Her lush mane fell nearly to her slender waist in flawless banana curls that would be the envy of any female who had ever wanted curly hair reminiscent of the ancient Greek goddesses.

"There you are," Orion said with a pleased smile. "Now everyone can see what a wonder you are both inside and out."

Honey blushed and gave a small curtsey.

Orion nodded slightly and leaned over, casually reaching into the bushes behind him to drag his eavesdropping youngest son out of his ill-chosen hiding place. "I believe you two have much to talk about, my dear. I will leave you to it."

Regulus turned bright red and sputtered, Honey blushed, and Orion smoothly glided off into the orchard with a small group of phoenix chicks clinging to his shoulders.

* * *

"I, uh, so…" Regulus began, suddenly wondering where that smooth tongue he had always had before wandered off to. Figures. When you really need something and rely on it to be there—

"Your father is wonderful," Honey said, smiling. "He is far more kind than the stories I had heard about him. Not that I ever believed all of them. Parting the oceans, summoning clouds of bats to blot out the sun, master of all things Dark magic— there was a limit to my fascination. I am glad to see that the kindness in him is strong. He has such a high regard for family."

"Most Blacks do," Regulus confessed. "Some are simply better at expressing it than others."

"Did you know when I was a child my accidental magic created a real family tree in my garden?" Honey asked. "It was full of these perfect, golden apples, with the names of my family members on them. I managed to eat half of my family before my mum found me, my belly full of my ancestors."

Regulus' eyes widened comically.

"They grew back," Honey informed him serenely. "I had a particular fondness for Auntie Matilda. Father was positively mortified that I ate her apple every morning for breakfast."

"Our family tree is emblazoned upon the wall in our living room," Regulus told her. "It is not nearly quite so appetizing as an apple tree."

"You should try it," Honey suggested with an approving nod.

"My mum would flay me alive if I ever did such a thing," Regulus said, his eyes darting about, making certain his father was not within earshot.

"Being flayed does have its downside," Honey agreed solemnly. "Being flayed while dead, while surely humiliating for your corpse, would probably be a much more comfortable experience for you."

Regulus blinked at that. "You are probably quite correct, however, I don't think I'd be in any condition to really care at that point."

"I much prefer you alive, yes," Honey remarked idly. "Your smile would be terribly wasted on a corpse."

Regulus' mouth twitched.

"I do love your smile," Honey said as if answering his unspoken question. "It doesn't make you look like you're up to anything that could be considered even remotely dubious."

"Mum would say that I'm _always _up to something," Regulus confessed.

"Well, we are always up to _something_, Regulus," Honey replied. "We just aren't always up to something _bad_. Thankfully, my parents were never the sort of people to become umbrageous about anything, so they generally allowed me to satisfy my curiosity as long as I didn't attempt to tamper with the ley lines using my mother's magical tuning fork."

Regulus raised a curious brow.

"Lovegood females like to bend the ley lines around their homes to keep their gardens healthy," she explained. "It also helps reinforce the wards around the family homes. Every Lovegood female is taught how to do it by her mother once they come of age, but if you should happen to make an attempt before you are old enough, the power can arch through your body and overwhelm your control, killing you instantly. The biggest fear is that a child would get their hands on it before they learned what it did and inadvertently blow themselves up or even their own family members as they attempted to save that child from a very painful death." Honey looked wistful. "My great-aunt almost died when her daughter accidentally got ahold of her tuning fork. She thought it was a toy and made such a wonderful sound. She threw herself in front of the ley line as it was arching towards her daughter. She managed to shield herself and her daughter, but it almost burnt their house to the ground. They were exceedingly lucky, you see."

Regulus frowned. "I'm sorry, love, I had no idea."

"It's okay," Honey smiled. "Lovegoods are used to having dangerously curious children. We are usually quite capable of handling it. My uncle's wife Solange, she has been trying to come up with a way to make ley lines less dangerous, yet still a part of the magical home. We're a little worried that her project might be too dangerous to experiment with while they are still considering children, but she insists she'll figure it out before they decide to have a child. I hope she's right."

"The tuning fork does sound very dangerous," Regulus noted. "Is there no way to keep it safely warded while she experiments?"

"Each person has their own individual way of handling it," Honey told him with a shrug. "I, myself, would prefer to set the leys and then embed the fork in a tree core until it was needed again. I've considered building a master hive around mine when I have my own house. The bees won't mind, and no one is going to accidentally stick their arm down an angry beehive and find it. It's really not a major concern for me right now, though. I'm not exactly with child at the moment."

Regulus flushed a very deep red at that observation.

"My mother actually encased her tuning fork into our house's lightning rod," Honey told him. "Every time lightning struck it, it reset the ley lines to exactly where they needed to be. After years of storms, now the leys seem to flow naturally. I never even knew it existed until she took me aside to teach me the art."

"It's quite fascinating," Regulus admitted. "We have a ley line near our home, but we've never even considered attempting to divert it for our own purposes."

"Most people wouldn't need to," Honey replied. "I fear the Lovegood family magic is somewhat dependent on it. We've relied on it for so long to power our wards and protect our homes, that to be without it would be rather traumatic. Our bloodline pays the price for this. The leys bleach out our hair and even our eyes and skin. It excites our minds, but sometimes in ways we don't really expect. We obsess over things, some good and some bad. We see things much more clearly than most, but we can't turn it off. I think that is why I prefer keeping bees. The bees are immune to the influence of magic, but their bodies transfer what doesn't affect them into their honey. I'll be able to keep them around my home and not worry about them being adversely affected by it."

Honey gazed off into the distance. "It would be so grand to have a place far enough away from people that the bees would be calm and happy. Maybe a place near a wood with a stream and meadows filled with all kinds of wildflowers. Nothing too big, though. I fear I wouldn't know what to do with too much space."

Regulus fidgeted for a few moments and then seemed to come to a decision. He took a deep breath before taking Honey's hands in his and staring deeply into her iridescent eyes. "Honey," he began, his voice cracking a bit with nerves. "I would be pleased to court you if you would allow it." He gently pressed his lips to her forehead. "I would see us learn from each other." He pressed his lips to her right cheek. "I would be your friend regardless of what choice you might make." He pressed his lips to her left cheek. "I would have you as my partner and my equal throughout life. Would you have me?"

Honey just looked at him, seeming to be somewhat confused, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Regulus swallowed hard, thinking that he had perhaps overstepped his bounds a bit too soon.

Honey gave him a mischievous smile. "You'll be happy to know that my father has already had 'the talk' with your Lord father in anticipation of the future. I suppose he thinks of you as quite the magnificent hero, having defended me from a rampaging rogue werewolf."

Regulus' eyes darted rapidly in all directions as though he half-expected his father to emerge from the shadows at that very moment to thunk him solidly over the head in reprimand for his utter witlessness.

Honey pressed her lips to his in answer to his question, and every single coherent thought he might have had suddenly went on an extended holiday without leaving notice.

* * *

A blissfully happy Regulus and Honey returned to the wedding reception just in time to see the brides preparing to throw their bouquets. Hermione and Minerva looked amused as they stood together, and Jean looked somewhat flabbergasted as little Percy Weasley brought her a bouquet of freshly picked wild and garden flowers that had Molly Weasley spouting mortified apologies to the newlywed Barberrys for her young son's innocent pillaging of their flower garden.

Hermione covered her mouth to hide her beaming smile as Minerva pressed her lips together hard in an admirable effort to prevent the laugh she was harboring from escaping.

The three brides, two planned and one not-exactly-planned, lined up and threw their bouquets at once. Hermione's bouquet bounced off Remus' head and landed in Honey's arms, causing her to blush furiously. Orion gave her a small, knowing wink. Minerva's bouquet was caught by Evelyn, who gave a soft yip of excitement and turned to give Sirius a mischievous grin.

Sirius stared back at her somewhat dumbfounded, but seemed to sense his father staring at him with a highly significant look that managed to convey knowing, warning and menace all at once, causing Sirius to start squirming, much to his friends' clear amusement.

Jean's bouquet of fresh flowers went sailing through the air, smacked a distracted James upside the head, and slid down his face right into Tala's waiting arms. Tala grinned from ear-to-ear and Hope chuckled delightedly. Alastor gave Remus the side-eye, causing the young werewolf to look as though he wanted the ground to mercifully swallow him up or at least find a way to somehow squeeze himself into the remains of the phoenix-pillaged fruitcake.

Pearl, who had been perched on Remus' shoulder for most of the evening, rapped him sternly upside the head with her beak, making a distinct thunking sound. Chuckles spread through the gathered guests, causing Remus to turn an even deeper shade of Gryffindor red.

In perhaps the only time Severus would permit his wife's dainty ankles to be seen in public, (without feeling the urge to murder anyone who might be watching) he removed Hermione's delicate lace garter and flung it over his shoulder. The garter went sailing high and then abruptly dropped down out of the sky to land directly on top of Remus' head, where it slid off and landed in his hands. Remus, who hadn't yet recovered from all the blushing in round one, was utterly unprepared for round two, and turned a bright, glowing Gryffindor red. Naturally, James and Sirius proceeded to rib their highly embarrassed friend mercilessly.

Gilford smoothly removed Minerva's garter to a chorus of raucous wolf-whistles. He sent it zinging across the garden, and it struck Regulus squarely in the middle of his chest. Orion burst into gleeful laughter as Regulus tried vainly to keep his face from turning the exact same colour Remus' still was. He failed miserably, much to Honey's amusement.

Severin, who realised that his wife had swiftly conjured herself a garter, removed it and hastily flung the bit of ribbon and lace. The garter arched high and came to a crash landing in Sirius' glass of champagne, splashing it all over the elder Black son's startled face. Remus gave Sirius a very satisfied smirk and Sirius promptly stuck out his tongue to demonstrate his remarkably high level of maturity. Sirius winked at Evelyn, who just giggled and held up her extravagant bouquet as if to say, "Why not?"

"My dear friends and family," Gilford said as he held Minerva's hand up in his. "Thank you for coming to witness this joyous celebration of love with us. Please, do continue to partake of the refreshments and have a glorious evening. For those of you who find yourself inclined to stay all evening, we have set up a number of guest tents in the gardens with running water and a wide range of amenities. Breakfast will be served for those who rise fully conscious," he continued, letting the laughs die down, "and if you should require anything at any hour whatsoever, Tippin, Rollie, Hiccup, and Dolly have graciously volunteered to answer your call as long as you are on our estate's grounds."

All three pairs of newlyweds waved a goodbye to their guests as they left together amidst a chorus of laughs, wolf whistles, phoenix warbles, and chimaera roars.

"Did the Ministry of Magic really pay for Severin and Jean's honeymoon at the Voluptas Resort and Spa?" James whispered to Sirius.

Sirius nodded. "They figured it was the least they could do considering they couldn't send them back to their rightful times. Hey, mate, you and Lils still going to elope to Disney World in America?"

"Shh!" James hissed, covering Sirius' mouth. He jutted his chin to where his parents and Lily were chatting away with Lord and Lady Black.

"You didn't tell your parents at least?" Sirius boggled.

"Are you _nuts_, mate? Mum wants a wedding bigger than any Black wedding ever. But Lily wants to see Disney World. She's been dreaming of the place since she was a little kid. We have to go, but there is no way I'm telling them!" James exclaimed.

Sirius wore a rather dubious face. "Okay, mate. Evelyn and I are going to spend the rest of the night on the town in Muggle London after we leave here. Let the parents mingle in the boring social soup while we have some _real _fun."

"Where's your brother and Honey?" James asked.

"Kreacher gave him a basket of goodies," Sirius said. "That elf spoils him rotten. He's taking Honey out somewhere to go stargazing or something else disgustingly romantic."

James frowned. "Hey, what's wrong with romantic?"

"Nothing, mate," Sirius replied, "if laying on a blanket and watching the bloody stars is your thing."

"I dunno, after seeing Honey all dolled up," James said. "I think your brother will be more than inspired to be _very _romantic."

Sirius pshed at that. "That's not a glamour, James," Sirius explained. "That's the lack of it."

James blinked. "_What_?"

"If you would just stop gazing pathetically into Lily's eyes like a lovesick puppy all the time and actually pay attention to the conversations around you, you might've known that," Sirius muttered.

"Hey!" James pouted.

Sirius made a disgusted face. "Just calling it as I see it, mate."

James looked very tempted to go bull moose and drive Sirius screaming through the garden with his antlers.

Suddenly, Orion Black put his hands on each of the young men's shoulders. "Ah, there you are, my son. James," he purred dangerously. "Perhaps you can enlighten me regarding this place called 'Disney World' that Miss Evans was so keen to share with us at the dinner table. Oddly, she seems remarkably enthusiastic about a place that is apparently infested with anthropomorphic talking animals. Particularly of the Rodentia order."

The two younger men swallowed hard.

Orion drummed his talon-like hands on Sirius' and James' shoulders. "Now, you wouldn't wish to keep your father in the dark about such intriguing places, now would you, my son? Your parents, too, seem remarkably fascinated with the fact that they have never even heard mention of this place until just now."

"W—where would you like us to start, Lord Black?" James stammered nervously.

Orion smiled. "At the beginning, of course. You wouldn't want to leave anything out that might cause you to accidentally trip and neuter yourself, now would you?"

Sirius and James tugged at their collars with obvious discomfort, gazing longingly towards Remus who was obliviously cuddling with Tala on the dance floor, the lucky sod.

"Of course not," they replied meekly.

Orion's lips quirked upward slightly. "Excellent."

* * *

**A/N:** Phew!


	48. Hey Brother How Art Thou?

**A/N: **Time? What's that? Do I have any? ARGH! Finals! Being sick as a dog (Sorry Sirius), studying… ARRRRRRRR!

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose and Dutchgirl01

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 48**

**Hey Brother, How Art Thou?**

One black bloodhound went tearing across the darkened alley as two extremely sharp-looking kitchen knives, a bucket and mop, a frying pan, and a wok came slamming into the brickwork above, behind, and in front of him, just barely missing him on all counts. A large ribeye roast with the bone still sticking out of the end was gripped tightly in his jaws as he ran, leaving a trail of juicy droplets behind him.

A long-winded chain of creative profanity that would have made a Glasgow dockworker blush and a Death Eater to stop in his tracks to express his admiration, left a virtual blue streak in the bloodhound's wake, but the canine did not pause to stop or even slow down. His black claws clattered across the stone pavers, and he disappeared into the dark of the late evening, his tail held high in triumph.

The familiar shape of one black-and-brown cocker spaniel joined him on his wild run, a shrunken hogshead cask of wine clamped between her jaws. They ran together, panting and drooling in unison, their mouths frothy with exertion. They skidded to a halt in one of the ornate gardens near a large pond with an elaborate fountain where the ducks and geese always gathered to be fed during the daylight hours. The garden was full of day-blooming plants and statuary, but the night seemed quite boring in comparison, at least to Sirius. The smells there, however, were always something truly exciting due to so many people and animals having passed through there.

Topiary animals and sculptures were scattered all around the park, but the happy canine couple decided that one almost concealed near the largest and darkest hedges was the best place to hide out and consume their spoils. Better yet, it was next to an ornate fountain with crystal clear water that seemed very inviting to the two hot, parched canines.

Evelyn panted, catching her breath before changing into human form just long enough to transfigure the cask of wine into an enormous punch bowl. The bowl was a little on the small side for the amount of wine in the hogshead cask, causing quite a bit of the wine to slosh over the foot of the nearby statue. Evelyn made a face and transformed back into her spaniel form, tail wagging with pleasure.

Sirius placed the nicked roast down and woofed, tail beating a tattoo against the ground, offering it up for her to take the first bite.

The cocker spaniel Animagus gnawed the end of the roast, getting tasty bits of seasoning and juice all over her black-and-brown muzzle. She growled softly in clear approval and waited. Sirius then took his turn, making happy growling sounds. Then they both tore into it hungrily, tails wagging as they growled, tore, and ripped into the savory rib roast with enthusiasm. There was still quite a bit of meat left on the bone, but the pair decided to indulge in the spirits, their long tongues lapping at the waiting wine bowl in earnest.

The two canines chased each other around the pond excitedly, bowling into each other and a few shrubberies, tipping a few off-kilter in places. They knocked over the bowl of wine in sheer enthusiasm, christening the feet of the nearby statue, and the now-empty bowl hit the remains of the rib roast, flinging it up into the air to smack the statue's face before sliding down to its marble feet once more. Wine and steak basted the statue's base in either offering or blasphemy, depending on who might be judging the canines at play.

They bounded into the fountain, sending great splashes of water in all directions. They pounced on each other, chased, and rolled about, heedlessly cavorting together and having a fine, old time.

It was then that two large catch poles came around both their necks, and they were yanked unceremoniously out of the fountain by two very wet, dripping, and unhappy dogcatchers with very irritated scowls on their faces.

"Clive, you got 'er?" The chubby, short man shivered in his sopping uniform.

"Yeah Harvey," his much taller partner replied. "He's a big, black brute of a hound. Ugh, they bloody reek of wine."

"This whole _place _reeks of wine," Harvey sighed gustily.

"Marsters isn't going to believe the sheer amount of hell these two scoundrels have have raised in the course of a single night," Clive noted.

"He'll put 'em to sleep just like all the other troublesome ones," Harvey sighed. "We simply don't have the room to house many more dogs. The other shelters are already full to capacity."

Clive nodded sadly. "Well, come on you lot," he said. "Party time is over."

The bloodhound and the cocker spaniel whined pitifully and tried to free themselves from the catch poles to no avail.

As the door to the truck's kennel cage clicked closed, Sirius and Evelyn were trapped with all the other dogs waiting for the ride back to the local Animal Control Shelter.

Neither they nor the dogcatchers noticed the marble eyes of the statue of Pan briefly glow a soft green before returning back to their normal state.

* * *

As Clive and Harvey dropped their catches off at the shelter, the shelter employees took them in, washed them up, gave them a thorough examination, and then gave them all of their shots, much to the two Animagis' distress.

"We don't even have room for this latest influx, Catherine," the older woman sighed. "I'm not sure why you're bothering to give them their shots."

"They'll have a week to be adopted, Mary," Catherine replied with a sad expression. "They'll have a chance at being adopted."

"Doesn't even seem worth it for an adult dog," Mary replied matter-of-factly. "You know the cute little puppies are the ones that usually get adopted out. The older dogs just wait around forever for the odd chance that someone is wise enough to want a fully-grown dog."

Catherine sighed, patting the somewhat lethargic cocker spaniel on the head. "It's not their fault that fickle people just toss them out like rubbish. There is a good chance with this one that someone is frantically searching for her. Cocker spaniels tend to be very popular dogs and very seldom end up in places like this. Odd that she doesn't have anything but this strange orange collar on her. Maybe someone was using her as a hunting dog and her nose had her running too far away, so she got lost. Happens sometimes with hunters."

Mary looked at the other intakes. "Might explain the bloodhound too. Maybe the police will want him for their scenting dogs. He looks young and healthy."

"Anything that keeps them from going under the needle, my friend," Catherine said grimly. "I'll call the D.I. Spencer in the morning. He should have a chance at him. He can decide if he wants the big guy neutered before he picks him up."

The black bloodhound whined, moaned, and tried to hastily scramble off the table.

"Hey, hey, now," Catherine chuckled. "It's like he knew what I was talking about. Ha! Go ahead and take those two to the holding kennels. I'll take care of the others."

"Aye, Cap'n," Mary said with a mock salute.

Catherine snorted, waving her off as Mary tugged on the leads, bringing the two whining, scrambling dogs to the kennels.

* * *

Sirius whined from inside the kennel, his considerable bulk a bit much for even the large kennel he was being held in. All of the other, larger kennels were full, and some of them had more than a couple dogs in them. The place really was over-burdened.

A loud, rolling, meow sounded nearby, and a British Blue shorthair cat with smokey blue-grey fur and intense copper eyes came padding into the kennels like she owned the place. Her tail was held high like a flag, and she looked very similar in stature to one silver tabby they knew very well.

"Mrrrrowwwww!" the cat vocalised, leaping up onto the nearby platform. Her tail waved back and forth like barley in a field. She padded up and down the cages, rubbing up against the bars, and strangely, none of the dogs seemed to bark at her in either excitement or aggression.

"Mrrrllllllll!" the cat said, sticking her paw through the bars to bop Sirius on the nose.

Sirius let out a startled yip, pulling back with a snort, followed by a body-shaking sneeze.

That's when he saw it— a bright orange collar, yet, it had identification tags on it like typical house cat at a Muggle residence. Sirius stared at the tag. "Marjorie," it read.

"Mrrrrllllllrrow," Marjorie said, clawlessly bonking Sirius again with her paw.

Sirius groaned, feeling the effects of far too many injected vaccines for his comfort. To top it all off, he was still feeling quite buzzed from their mutual descent into wine-fueled inebriation in the park.

_You smell like a wine cask._

Sirius blinked, shaking his head vigorously as if to clear it.

The cat was staring at him rather unnervingly.

Sirius whined.

_You must have been drunk off your gourd to get yourself caught by those two Muggle bumblers._

Sirius' ears perked forward slightly as he tried to sit up, slamming his head hard against the top of the kennel. He yelped.

_Smooth move there, handsome. Sirius Black, I take it?_

Sirius whined again.

_Hrm, I keep forgetting most folks are pants at telepathy. Just nod your head for yes. Side to side for no._

Sirius nodded his head up and down.

"Mrrrrowwwll," the cat said. _You'll have to stay in there until things die down a mite. I recommend not doing anything that might result in your getting neutered any faster._

Sirius whined and hunkered down in the kennel.

Mary came walking into the kennels. "Oh! There you are Marjorie. The children are asking for you, little love."

"Meeoowww!" Marjorie said as the woman picked the purring grey cat up and cuddled her, carrying her out of the kennel area.

Sirius swallowed hard. Seeing as he was stuck in a too-small space for a full-grown human, he had no choice but to stay put, praying that Marjorie would come back later to assist him out of his embarrassing predicament.

* * *

"An entire hogshead cask of wine?" Marjorie boggled, absolutely aghast as she passed Sirius and Evelyn steaming cups of tea. "I'm sorry I don't have any potion for your hangovers, but if you keep drinking plenty of fluids, it should help at least somewhat. I can't say if it will help someone who managed to drink that much, though. If you hadn't been about in your Animagus forms, I expect you would've ended up in the local drunk tank with various random rummies until at least morning. Or in the nearest Muggle hospital getting I.V. fluids."

Sirius and Evelyn teetered a little, clasping their tea cups and drinking the hot beverage rather blearily.

"Seemed like a great idea at the time," Sirius finally volunteered, a bit shamefaced.

"Getting married by one of the elder deities of nature, the notorious companion of the nymphs as well as embodiment of the wild and more carnal pleasures is not exactly standard practice in these more modern times," Marjorie noted, raising a curious brow.

"Wait, _what _did you say?" Evelyn asked, trying desperately to focus.

"You didn't know?" Marjorie asked.

"Know what?" Sirius slurred.

Marjorie slowly pulled out a copy of the Prophet from inside her Muggle coat.

* * *

_**Ancient Rite of Pan Weds Elder Son of the House of Black to Auror Evelyn Groot**_

_It has always been said that the House of Black never does anything small, and the eldest son of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black has certainly lived up to the family reputation, marrying Auror Evelyn Groot in an ritual seldom seen in our more modern Wizarding world, an ancient rite of fertility. _

_The formal documents materialised upon formation of the marriage bond and were witnessed and signed by our Minister of Magic shortly after she was awakened in the middle of the night while attention the official weddings of Lord and Lady Severus and Hermione Black and Masters Gilford and Minerva McGonagall._

"_I've married and witnessed the marriages of four couples in less than twenty-four hours. This is a glorious way to celebrate the end of the war!"_

"_The Garden of the Gods has been in place for hundreds of years," Ministry official Theodosius Gayfeather said. "We've shared it with our friends in the Muggle community ever since it was created back in the day, when we both shared many of the old ideals. Marriages used to be commonplace there. People would leave food and wine as offerings to their chosen god or goddess to bless their marriage, then partake of it themselves. Some people would just leave offerings, so they key was to both offer and eat of the same meal for the couple to be so blessed. This was to keep unwary people from inadvertently getting themselves married. Children of a certain age were, thankfully, completely immune."_

_When Gayfeather was asked if he approved of the marriage via the ancient gods, the aged wizard chuckled. "The ancient gods and goddesses were often as benevolent as they were fickle. If they blessed the union, you can bet there was a reason for it. What that reason is, however, well, that is something only the great god Pan knows and only the newlyweds can ever find out."_

* * *

"We're _**married?**_" Evelyn squeaked, her brown eyes wide in shock.

Marjorie chuckled, dimpling in amusement. "Congratulations, you two."

"But, I haven't even had time to tell my parents—" Evelyn protested.

"I fear they know now," Marjorie told her. "As does the majority of Wizarding Britain."

Evelyn paled.

Sirius stared at the intricate ring of inked leaves around a pan flute on Evelyn's left wrist. He looked at his own with a sense of dawning horror. It shimmered with powerful magic that he could feel rippling under his skin.

"The Prophet sent out an extra special marriage announcement blotter this evening," Marjorie said, flipping the page of the paper to show a list of marriages that had happened the previous day in the order they occured.

**Gilford and Minerva Barberry**

**Severus and Hermione Snape**

**Severin and Jean Snape**

**Marcus and Mavis Freesword **

**Richard and Jessica Garwood**

**Pontius and Cedrella Pendergast**

**Ackerley and Qadira Greenbellows**

**Salvador and Nadya Rushelot**

**Sirius and Evelyn Black**

**Wagner and Tabitha Cravens**

**Tacitus and Felicity Bookstopper**

**Armande and Claudia Blanchefleur**

**Regulus and Honey Black**

Sirius peered at the paper and rubbed his eyes. "Now, I know I'm drunk. Or dreaming," he slurred, politely stifling a hiccup. "There is no way in Hades that my uptight, rule-following, faultlessly honourable baby brother would elope and get married like James Potter on the eve of our sister's official wedding."

* * *

Many hours had passed since Regulus and Honey had left the elaborate festivities of the wedding reception for both Severus and his sister as well as the Masters Barberry. Even Severin and Jean had gotten in on it, and part of Regulus wondered if he had done the same with Honey, if his Lady Mother wouldn't have murdered him in plain view of everyone without a tear in her eye.

The last thing Regulus wanted was a huge wedding with all the pomp and circumstance that was expected. He had hoped that his elder sister's wedding would have gotten it out of his mum's system, but while Hermione was excused from having the kind of affair the Muggle Royal Family would have probably though normal, he knew both he and Sirius were not going to get out of it so easily. His sister had done everything right and ended up with tragedy with Lucius and then married to Severus in an act that saved her life and the lives of their close masters and pack. Regulus or Sirius had hardly been so plagued, despite coming out as heroes of the Wizarding War. Maybe he should have proposed to Honey long before this and hopped on the marriage wagon with his sister.

Truth was, he admitted to himself, when it came to Honey and fessing up to his true feelings and what he really wanted, he was a coward.

It was hard to be brave in the face of her. She was, in many ways, perfectly understanding. She was intelligent, wonderful, and downright gorgeous, and he had a hard time seeing her settling with him— just some random bear that managed to save her from a werewolf. Sure, that was great and all, but there had to be more to a relationship than that. It wasn't like the main the reason you married someone was because they saved your life, otherwise St Mungos would have a hundred some healers married to multiple partners.

They had stopped at the Burning Phoenix Apothecary to check in on Silvanus and Maya Prince. Maya had come down with a horrendous cold she had called the second coming of the biblical plague in her lungs, and Silvanus had been loathed to leave her, even for the wedding. Maya had apparently given her plague to her husband, and the two miserable Potion Masters were in no condition to be seen in public.

Honey had made the pair a cauldron of homemade chicken soup and set it to a perpetual warming charm as well as making sure they had a warm quilt and a duvet to shiver under. She recognised the "plague" from something she had gotten as a child.

"It's worse when you get it as an adult," Honey stated. "As children you just get a fever and break out in odd purple spots. You sneeze sounding like a thestral with allergies, but you get over it quickly. Adults, unfortunately, have to suffer a bit longer. You probably picked it up from some parent coming to the apothecary to help their kid. Anyway, the chicken soup will have you right as rain in a few days. Rest as often as you can, and I'll check up on you in a couple days unless you send world that you need me, okay? Just don't try and use any potions for it. It reacts badly. Rest and chicken soup is the only surefire cure."

Regulus could only admire her calm head in any situation. He vaguely remembered being sick as a small child and thinking it would better if be broke out in rainbow spots instead of purple, but she was right that the instances of adult cases were small. He figured it was because they had been transplanted from their time-streams, which may not have had the disease at all.

Now that the Princes were taken care of, Regulus and Honey lay sprawled, dozing slightly on a picnic blanket they had spread out on the grass at the edge of the bluebell woods near Queen Charlotte's cottage at the Kew Royal Botanical Gardens.

They had apparated in for their own, private, late-night tour of the facilities. It had proven quite the romantic locale for them both and they oohed and ahhed over the fastidiously-tended flowers, plants and tree of the famed British gardens. They had explored the glass houses, climbed through the treetop walkway, explored the various outdoor gardens, Honey making sure to collect various cuttings here and there and stowing them in a temperature-controlled box she had brought along for the occasion. Then they had chosen this spot to admire the bluebells and enjoy the wonderful food and drink that Kreacher had kindly packed into a hamper just for them.

They had dined on tandoori chicken, a summer vegetable curry and coconut rice, with naan and a selection of exquisite little bajra tartlets with tropical fruit custard for afters. Now they were full and relaxed, especially Regulus, who had consumed most of the bottle of honey mead they had brought along for the occasion, Honey having preferred to take her meal with the gillywater that Kreacher had also thoughtfully supplied. Regulus felt his mind going pleasantly fuzzy as a soft smile spread across his face. Honey was 'the one' for him. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

And now he knew _exactly _what he had to do.

"Honey," Regulus purred with a thoroughly winsome smile. "I can't imagine my life without you. Will you allow me to Kiss you?

Honey gave him a serene look. "I wouldn't mind at all; however, I do feel obligated to tell you that you probably have very little inhibition left right now. That honey mead had a very special vibration to it."

Regulus leaned in closer. "I feel you are the only one for me," Regulus blurted. "You're such a wonderful person. I feel you have every right to deny me, but I want to be with you. I want to be there for you. Today, tomorrow— for the future. Forever."

He took her hands in his, cupping them between his palms. "I want to build a family together— a home, a life. I want to watch our children grow together, share our joy together, be there to soothe your pain. I want to be with you until my hair grows silver and I have to walk with a staff like the wizards of old. I want to teach our kids to race the wind on a broom. I know we just started our official courtship, but I feel like I've been waiting for you my entire life. The first day I met you were the most fascinating creature in all this world—"

Honey patted Regulus gently on the hand, and his face twisted in sudden agony as he thought she was about to tell him exactly what he _didn't _want to hear.

"Regulus," she said, shaking her head from side to side. "I knew from the moment we met that you were the one. You saw me for who I really was, while so many others only saw what I had wanted them to see. It has long been a tradition for the women in my family to wear a special glamour, one designed so that the only ones who could see our true faces were those that truly cared for us."

"I don't understand," Regulus said, confused. "You've never looked any different to me."

Honey smiled fondly at him. "Exactly. You have always genuinely cared for me, thus you could always see me as I truly am. I know how rare that is even without the glamour, Regulus. I would gladly accept your Kiss."

Regulus was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth as as he pressed his lips tenderly to hers. Magic flowed between them as she returned his passionate enthusiasm, and the couple soon forgot everything else but loving each other.

The explosive, radiant nova of Magic sealed their mutually consensual marriage bond, warming the air in the outdoor garden to a near-tropical level as Regulus claimed his beautiful new bride, and she claimed him right back.

* * *

Regulus woke to a very familiar earth-toned phoenix sitting on an overhanging branch nearby. Next to her, a pitch black phoenix yawned beakily, staring down at him with what he was almost certain was pure disdain and irritation.

Weren't they supposed to be honeymooning off in Bora Bora or somewhere like that?

Realizing he was hardly prepared to receive visitors, Regulus shot straight up and then immediately tried to cover his nether regions in shame. He pulled the picnic blanket up to cover himself and that, in turn, exposed Honey's very smooth and very bare curves to any and all who might be on hand to witness the event.

Regulus flushed, hastily flipping the blanket back over her, but that left him fully exposed in his birthday suit. His eyes darted around frantically.

His dress robes, which he had worn to the wedding reception, were hanging neatly on an overhead branch. There was a disgruntled-looking black phoenix perched on them. He seemed to have something in his mouth, and he dropped it squarely on top of Regulus' throbbing head with a solid _**thwack**_.

Regulus realised it was a newspaper, and he tried to open it and cover himself with it only to see the very prominent headline:

_**Lord and Lady Orion and Walburga Black Announce Plans for a Formal Wedding for Their Two Sons, Sirius and Regulus Black!**_

_Lady Walburga Black announced today after their two sons both managed to get married literally overnight. Shortly after the stroke of midnight, a flare of marriage bonding magic sealed Regulus Arcturus Black to Honey Beatrice Lovegood in a consensual marriage bond at the Kew Royal Botanical Gardens, near London. _

_Not even two hours before, Sirius Orion Black had been joined with Evelyn Groot in an ancient fertility rite by the sacred statue of Pan, almost directly across the city from his younger brother._

_Minister Eugenia Jenkins, who had been up celebrating the wedding of both Gilford and Minerva Barberry, Severus and Hermione Snape, and Severin and Jean Snape at the Barberry Estate, was interrupted by two incoming owls requesting that she sign the official paperwork so the rings and certificates could be sent out to the two unexpectedly married couples. All of the other weddings had occurred during normal Ministry business hours, had been planned and had paperwork filed well in advance._

"_Goodness," Minister Jenkins said to reporters in the early morning. "I don't think I've married off an entire family in less than twenty-four hours before!" _

_While the magic did seal both sons into legal Magic-blessed marriages, neither couple seems to have formed a new Lineage. There were some sadly disappointed people who had unwisely invested money in the betting pool over it, but alas, so far at least, there has been only one new Lineage forged by Magic this century, and that particular honour was bestowed upon Lord and Lady Severus and Hermione Snape._

_It seems that Lord Orion Black pulled his son-in-law and daughter to his side in the early morning to request that they deliver the happy news to his younger son and his new wife, even as his elder son and his new wife awoke on an unfamiliar porch in a Muggle neighbourhood, wrapped up together quite snugly in a rather large British flag. _

_According to interviewed eyewitnesses, both Sirius Black and his new wife were completely unconscious and unrousable, reeking of elf-made wine, and did not stir even when the neighbours' children began finger-painting their faces and decorating them with a portion of their morning breakfast. Their squib parents, when they realised just who their young children had been so industriously decorating, immediately owled Lord and Lady Black with the newlyweds' whereabouts._

_Drama aside, our fine paper would like to extend our sincerest congratulations to everyone who got married yesterday and early this morning. Such a positive surge in such happy and memorable occasions can only help sweep away any lingering negativity, thanks to the late and unlamented Dark Lord Voldemort and his fatal obsession with the former Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. _

_We salute you all! I don't know about you, my friends, but I am very eager to see the birth announcements of the latest crop of wizard babies that are sure to bring a smile to many more faces besides the happy parents themselves._

_The Aurors at the Ministry of Magic are starting a betting pool on gender and number of children to be expanding the families of their fellow Auror couples. Those who would like to participate in the fun (and possibly win a healthy amount of galleons) are welcome to owl their bets to the Auror's Office. The pot will be split 50/50 between the winner and the British Wizarding Orphanage in order to see the facility expanded to better cope with the recent crop of war orphans and provide new robes, toys and school supplies for the children._

* * *

Regulus groaned, then, realising he was still very bare, transformed into a bear in an attempt to save his dignity, or rather, what little he still had left. He shambled over to the clothing that had been flung across the branches and quickly dressed himself.

He felt around for his wand. Oh, Merlin, where was his wand?

The earthen phoenix made an odd noise, and Regulus realised that his sister and her mate were playing tug of war with his wand.

"I— uh— ow!" Regulus got pecked squarely on the hand. "Could I please have my wand back?"

Two sets of angry phoenix eyes glared at him.

"I'm sorry!" Regulus moaned.

The earthen phoenix looks like she was going to swallow the wand.

"No! Nononono! Sister, please!" Regulus pleaded. "I love her! I love her! I really, really do!"

Phoenix and bear animagus stared at each other.

Regulus tried to reach the wand, and Hermione made to devour it whole.

"No! Please! Ack! Sister—" Regulus dropped to his knees. "I meant no dishonour to our family, I swear it! I swear it! I love her. I really, really, do."

The black phoenix turned his beak up and away, making a sound that was strangely reminiscent of a derisive raspberry being blown.

Hermione somehow managed to sing a very stunning version of _Mozart's Requiem for the Dead _with Severus taking the part of the bassoon and basso continuo.

Regulus paled, prostrating himself before the two birds. "Please, sister, brother. I beg forgiveness for any drama I may have caused to overshadow your rightful wedding and interrupting your most deserved honeymoon!"

Hermione made chugging motions.

"And upsetting mother!" Regulus added.

The phoenix narrowed her eyes at him, setting herself into blue flames.

"And not taking our Lord Father's words more seriously!" Regulus blurted.

"Not to interrupt," Honey said in a sing-song voice, standing there beside them with a picnic blanket as her only covering, "but I think I may be pregnant."

Honey very deliberately hurled into a nearby bush. "Yes. Girl I think."

Hermione and Severus glared at Regulus accusingly.

Regulus paled ashen white. "Merciful gods. Take me into your bosom and save me—"

Honey hurled again. "Hrm, twins possibly. Mum did warn me about such things." She wiped her mouth daintily as if nothing abnormal was going on. "Witches in our family tend to express signs of pregnancy almost immediately after conception and the merging of two magical lines. It was all very complex and slightly dizzying, so I fear I may have considered the recipe for cabbage rolls instead. I didn't really plan for it, or I would have brought a towel."

Hermione dropped Regulus' wand directly to his forehead, and the young Black wizard fell backwards into the grass, completely unconscious.

Honey looked down at her new husband. "I'm sorry, were you expecting triplets? I suppose time will tell soon enough."

The two phoenixes exchanged baffled glances and sang _Que Sera, Sera_ together.

* * *

"This should help you with the nausea," Severus said, handing Honey the small vial of shimmering pink liquid. "Apologies for the colour, but I had to add a few things to make it safe for your condition. One drop under the tongue every night should be sufficient."

"Oh, thank you," Honey gushed, patting her abdomen. "They may not be showing in other ways, but the nausea makes tending the bees problematic. They don't like being thrown up on."

"No, no, I don't see bees caring for that," Severus agreed.

"Please, sit, sit, have some lemonade," Honey invited. "It's the least I can do after all the work you did to help move us out here. Having Pomona so close to share our greenhouses and the apiaries. It is wonderful out here."

Hermione sipped her lemonade and nodded. "It was not a problem. Phoenixes are blessed with the ability to carry heavy things without levitation."

Honey smiled and offered up a tray of ginger biscuits. "After that wedding, I fear I wasn't in any condition to remember exactly where home was, to be honest. Regulus and I woke up not remembering where we were."

"Sounds similar," Severus quipped, "to how you got unofficially married."

Honey blushed. "Well, mum always told me that I'd marry young, but I had always thought she meant younger than she had. She was married on a sailing ship off the coast of Africa, with the entire wedding party and the guests dressed as pirates."

Severus arched a brow.

Honey smiled. "Lovegoods rarely do things in a normal fashion."

Hermione snickered into her biscuit. "I am glad you didn't think my mum too overbearing with the dresses and the pomp and the circumstance. She really tried to make up for the fact she didn't get to do that with Severus and myself."

"Oh, I loved it actually, " Honey said with a grin. "I'd always wondered what it would be like to marry into royalty. It felt like I was. All the curtsying and tentative sipping of exotic libations, nodding, and five hundred formal introductions. No one seemed to realise who I was because of my glamour being dropped. I found it all quite amusing."

"You kept Regulus from being murdered by our Lady Mother, Honey," Hermione chuckled. "That was something he is not likely to forget."

"Well," Honey answered, "It hardly seems right to allow your husband to be murdered so soon after getting married, aye?"

Hermione laughed. "Aye."

Severus ran his fingers under his chin. "I think Lady Black is quite taken with the idea that she will soon have grandchildren."

Hermione sighed with relief. "Nothing would please my mum more than having children to fuss over again, I think. Only this time, once she riles them up, she gets to send them back to someone else."

Severus arched a brow. "Perhaps every parent looks forward to the day they get to hand back the problem child and say 'Hrm, this one is a lot like _you _were as a child'."

Honey smiled as she looked out over her flourishing gardens. "It's nice to know we have a place to come home to during the summer months. Pomona said she would teach the elves how to tend the greenhouses and such like she did for hers. We're experimenting on making a temperature-regulated greenhouse for the bees and see if they respond well to it. They do their yearly hibernation otherwise."

"Sounds like you already have plenty of projects to tend to," Hermione said with a grin.

"Oh, yes," Honey said with a nod. "My cousin Xenophilius said he would really like to bring his wife, Solange, here to see the gardens. Apparently she's really into experimental magic, but the one thing that distracts her is gardening."

Hermione's expression grew grim, and Severus' gaze clouded. Hermione gave him a meaningful look, and Severus nodded grimly.

"I think that would be a great idea," Hermione said cheerfully. "I think you should take her under wing. Maybe some of that love of herbology will wear off on her."

"Do you think so?" Honey asked, tilting her head. "It would be nice to have someone about to talk about herbology with other than just Pomona."

"I don't see why not," Severus suggested. "Perhaps you can team up together to find new ways to enhance various flowers and other plants. That might make for better honey from your bees as well as possibly more potent potions ingredients."

Honey perked. "That sounds excellent! I will be sure to bring it up with her."

Hermione and Severus nodded approvingly, sipping their lemonade.

"How are Jean and Severin doing?" Honey asked.

"They didn't want to come back from their honeymoon at the resort and spa, from what they old me," Severus chuckled. "I don't blame them. At least they got to go to theirs after their being wedded."

Honey flushed.

Severus held up his hand. "We do not blame you for it, Honey. Kreacher at least admitted to given you the extra 'special' elf-wine that night to help 'move things along'. Sirius, on the other hand. He and Evelyn purposely got themselves knackered on alcohol and then fornicated under the statue of Pan."

Hermione snorted. "I doubt he planned the giving offerings to Pan and then mating at his feet was the plan."

"Black rarely plans for anything," Severus muttered.

Hermione pinched her nose. "My brother is known for many things. Preplanning is not one of them."

"Seeing him dressed to the nines was amusing enough," Severus confessed. "All that frill and lace? Having to bow to everyone. Having to hold his tongue, address his parents formally— it was almost worth having to suffer through the wedding."

"Severus!" Hermione laughed.

"Having all the photographers and press invited to capture him forever bedecked in enough lace, frills, and velvet to make a Victorian doll seem underdressed— bliss," Severus said with much satisfaction.

"It was amusing, I will confess," Honey admitted. "Regulus made everything seem so natural. Sirius doesn't seem to find _anything _about formality to be natural."

"I'm sure he wished to elope like Potter did with Lily," Severus grunted. "Not that it saved them from the wrath of his parents."

Hermione looked puzzled. "What did they do. Lily never wanted to talk about it. She said it was— embarrassing?"

"It was the photo of the both of them sporting Mickey Mouse ears that pushed the Potters over the edge," Severus filled in. "Apparently the Potters are taking a page from Lady Black and forcing them to have a "real" wedding after graduation."

Hermione brushed her robes free of imaginary dust. "Oh my. Well— at least they didn't have to be dressed down by my Lord Father and my Lady Mother. I am fairly sure that nothing is quite equal to that in any other family."

Severus gave her a wide-eyed look. "You are probably correct."

Honey gave a soft sigh. "I am glad that Headmistress McGonagall has allowed Regulus and I to inhabit one of the suites in the married students' quarters. They haven't been used in some time, she explained, but apparently they have remained since a time when marriage at a younger age was far more common. Regulus seems relieved that we will be closer to the hospital wing even though we have to attend counseling with Madam Pomfrey about marriage, pregnancy, and raising children."

Hermione tilted her head. "Probably better than getting life lessons from my Lord Father, Honey. I always adored my father's teachings, but I get the feeling he'd be a lot to take in as a teacher about life, love, marriage, and kids."

Honey shrugged. "My mum used to say that nothing in the Lovegood family was ever typical. It seems fitting that we are where we are as strangely as we came about it. I can't say I expected to be married at seventeen, but I wouldn't trade Regulus for anything."

Hermione smiled at Honey. "I am truly glad you feel that way. I know he feels the same."

The three of them clanked their lemonade glasses together, enjoying the peace and Honey Lovegood Black's new and delightful gardens.

* * *

Some four or five weddings, one overly belated honeymoon, and after everyone they seemed to know had consummated their marriage before them later, Lord Severus Tobias Snape descended upon his wife as she was attempting to read the upcoming "term warnings" that Minerva had sent out. Apparently, there were quite a few "problem children" that were coming to Hogwarts for the first time, and everyone was being warned about them ahead of time. None of this mattered to Severus, as he was bound and determined to take advantage of the cooler evening, perfect sunset, and tantalising wife being in perfect synchronisation.

Tubby and Zilly had provided an excellent meal and shooed them off into the garden, and Hermione had taken along her reading material as per the usual routine. Usually it didn't take long before someone visited— Remus sometimes, Black other times, or even Lily and Potter would stop in. Minerva and Gilford seemed to be the only ones that didn't stop in at night, almost as if they were trying to offer the other newlyweds some time to be newlyweds instead of Wizarding world saviours, time-tweakers, or other such official work.

Time-displaced Ronald Weasley was stripped of all his magic, mind wiped, and transformed into a large barred owl and given to Arthur Weasley as a promotion present. They had named him Errol, and went to the Sunrise Kettle to celebrate, and the celebration had eventually moved to the Three Broomsticks and gone way into the night. Someone, and Severus was pretty sure it was Ogden, had introduced Errol to firewhisky and the poor owl hadn't flown a straight line ever since. To top it off, the owl seemed convinced that fire whisky was his answer to everything, and Arthur and Molly had to throw all the alcohol out of the Burrow to keep the owl from self-medicating. Still, inebriation aside, the family loved the new feathered addition to their family. Severus couldn't help but think that some part of Ronald Weasley was still aware inside of Errol— not enough to influence the owl body he was trapped in to communicate— just enough to wish hard enough to imprint a love for firewhisky on his avian body. He couldn't prove it, and Erroll was now so irrevocably scrambled thanks to the alcohol that even if something of Ronald Weasley had remained inside— he was probably in no condition to drink and tell. He did have to admit to a certain amount of smug satisfaction watching young Bill and Charlie Weasley playing owl bludger catch from time to time. He'd even stopped wincing every time the owl slammed into a window, wall, chair, door, ceiling, coat rack, tree, or whatever stationary object was in the owl's way. If Ronald Weasley was still inside that brain, he probably wasn't remotely sane. Severus could argue that the boy wasn't very sane at any point in his life, but that was neither here nor there.

Just when that situation had been leveled out, there had been the other weddings, thanks to Regulus and Sirius getting themselves magically married. Drama, weddings, receptions, and suffering through social acrobatics had Severus wanting to crawl under a rock and not come out for at least another century. At least the food had been truly stellar. Watching Orion Black keeping his sons off-balance and terrified had come in a close second for sheer entertainment value.

When that had finally blown over, and they had all moved Sirius and Evelyn into their new flat in London, and Honey and Regulus was into their new home out by Pomona Pomfrey's summer home, Remus and Tala had gone and mated under a full moon and had hurriedly had a small wedding in the Barberry's garden. They had missed the bludger of being pregnant, but Remus wasn't taking any chances of out of wedlock children, pups, or something in between. Bets on "something in between" had been high considering their pack's track record. Tuft and Tala's wolf had made it abundantly clear that sooner rather than later was going to be the theme of their mating bond.

Remus and Tala carved, quite literally, a home into the forested hillside near Severus and Hermione, interlocking their gardens and giving them a place to romp and enjoy the woods at the same time. Still, even with the newfound freedom, all the werewolves seemed to think that "home" was Barberry's garden. Every full moon, his garden was full of wolves, romping, chasing, singing to the moon, and generally making sure that no one forgot whose territory it was. The pecking order never changed. If Minerva was around, the wolves would follow the silver tabby around like she was the boss. If Minerva was enjoying Gilford's company, Moody was boss. If Orion was around, well, no one doubted he was the boss no matter what form they took. Amusingly, Gilford would sometimes perch between Orion's ears and sing, and all the wolves would cock their heads and listen before howling a harmony.

Peaceful as it was, what Severus really wanted was a little time with his wife, and in order for that to happen, he had to distract her from her other true love: reading.

Hrm, what was a male phoenix to do?

Severus perched on a high branch and considered his options. _Bridge Over Troubled Water_? No. Hrm— she did confess to a certain infatuation to an American singer.

Severus started to sing, starting off with _Take Me Home, Country Roads_, blending into _Sunshine on My Shoulders_, and ending with _Rocky Mountain High_.

Hermione had put down the paper she was reading and was looking up. Success!

Changing into his human form, he switched to _Annie's Song_, pouring all of his love for his mate into each note. His arm curled around the trunk of the tree as he sat on the branch.

_You fill up my senses_

_Like a night in a forest_

_Like the mountains in springtime_

_Like a walk in the rain_

_Like a storm in the desert_

_Like a sleepy blue ocean_

_You fill up my senses_

_Come fill me again_

Hermione had left the hotsprings and had taken flight, seeking out her serenader with interest.

_Come, let me love you_

_Let me give my life to you_

_Let me drown in your laughter_

_Let me die in your arms_

_Let me lay down beside you_

_Let me always be with you_

_Come, let me love you_

_Come love me again_

Hermione flew straight for him, and Severus was ready, leaping into the air as the transformation took him, soaring high into the moonlit sky. Hermione warbled as she gave chase, and Severus let out a chain of bright notes as he led her through the sky. They burst through the clouds to the bright moon beyond, chasing each other from the tops of the cloud cover. Their wings drew trails across the surface of the clouds.

She gave a burst of speed, her wings beating in synchronisation with his as she snapped them around him. They tumbled through the clouds, spinning together and then broke apart, but this time Hermione was zooming away and Severus was in chase. He zoomed after her, his wings pinned to harness both the air thermals and the streams of time that had become his element. He focused on nothing but her— his glorious she-phoenix— consumed in the chase and the need.

She flew like a bird possessed, as if her life counted on her escape, and he flew after her as if she was his salvation. He ignored the burning ache in his wings, absorbing the timestreams as much as he coasted along them, using them to propel him forward. The more he did so, the more need he felt to catch his mate and consume her with his own burning fire. She flew up suddenly, spiraling up and away.

YOINK!

She had taken one of his black tail feathers and was zooming off again, crowing in victory.

Severus let out a phoenix scream, tearing off after her— the feather stealer!

She zig-zagged through the forest at full tilt, her wings expanding and folding with unparalleled precision to guide her through every small gap and turn. But Severus wasn't going to let her experience stop him. He focused on her so tightly that he knew every movement she made, every tilt of her wings, and every beat of her muscles.

Severus began to feel the embrace of the time streams as he pursued. They felt more solid, and he felt as if he could find her at any point and place in time. Wherever he was, he would know— and he would be there as friend, mate, and companion through every time they found themselves in.

Fwoosh!

In a great surge of fire and a scream of determination, Severus caught up, locking his wings around her, sending them flying forward like a wayward and unguided fireball. Their wings were locked. Their flames combined. They screamed together, their notes a clarion call across the hills. Yet, somehow, Hermione wriggled free from his wing embrace, warbling her victory at his distraction.

She was off again, this time heading back towards their home with unerring precision. Severus wasn't about to let her get away now, and he regained his control of his trajectory and set off in pursuit. She was strong; she was powerful, and he would show her that he was worthy!

Pulling on the time sands, he pushed himself forward even faster, defying the air and defying gravity in his relentless chase of his mate. Yet, she wasn't slowing. She stayed just out of reach as if she was taunting him to give reason for her to accept him. What was he doing wrong?

She called, her voice pure and clear in the night air.

_Severus._

She was calling his name, mixing within the streams of time and anchor of the present. He felt it shiver through his entire body— calling, pleading, whispering, and needing. Her love, like molten heat of the sun called to him.

Of course— she didn't just want someone to catch her.

Not just anyone.

Severus thought of every smile, every touch, and every surge of love he had had when he saw her. He thought of their first true embrace in the flames of his rebirth. He thought of her— she who was his mate.

_Hermione!_

He sang. He sang as pure as he had ever sang. He poured his love into that one word, one name, one instant of pure, devoted, undeniable love for her.

_Will you be my friend?_

_Always._

He had meant it. He had meant it even then. That had never once changed

_Hermione!_ He sang her name again, and Hermione's pace began to slow. She had heard him!

His wings snapped around her body, and they tumbled once more, but this time, she did not attempt to wriggle free. She was trusting him to guide her home.

Severus shifted in mid flight, his human arms wrapped around the she-phoenix as they shot through the open window and beyond. His wings, burst from his human back fanned, breaking their fall. He pumped them wildly, easing them both to the top of the waiting mattress, thankful that they did not have the same four posters from Hogwarts to slam into. He crashed into the bed, using his body to cushion and protect his mate, holding her tight against his body.

And suddenly she was human, her bright, vibrant wings on fire and spread over them both like a feathered awning.

_Severus,_ she sang. _Beloved._

Severus' heart burst, flooding with his love for her. Their wings entwined as they tumbled together, and his mouth met hers in a moment of pure ecstasy.

_Hermione!_

The moment they joined with each other, a blast of radiant heat rolled out from their bodies. Far off, the cry of other phoenixes warbled their joyous reply and acknowledgment of their bond.

Hours later, as the pair lay entwined, Hermione tucked against Severus' body as his wings curved protectively around her body, two soft glows in the shape of golden eggs radiated from Hermione's abdomen. Hermione's eyes opened as she pressed her face to her mate's chest. "I love you."

Severus' wings and arms drew her closer, bathing her in his warmth. "I love you," he whispered into her hair. "Always."

* * *

"Professor Snape," James said, giving the Potions master a customary evaluating stare.

Black eyes narrowed. "Professor Potter," Severus replied.

Just as the stare down was starting to get rather intense, Hermione wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed his nose. "My Lord Husband," she said, eyes shining.

Severus turned to her, his expression softening. "My Lady Wife," he said tenderly.

"Are you done giving each other the glare of impending doom?" Hermione asked. "The children are going to be coming in soon."

"I suppose," Severus answered.

James stuck his tongue out at him.

"Mature, Potter," Severus added. "That sort of thing is what got your parents insisting on a formal marriage ceremony."

James flushed.

Hermione shook her head. "You might have gotten away with it had you not sent out all of those drunken photos with the Mickey Mouse Ears."

"It was really fun," James attempted to justify his choice but was beginning to shift uneasily as he watched the pair before him..

"I'm sure screaming like a girl while riding Space Mountain was quite unforgettable," Severus replied, arching one brow.

"How did you—?" James sputtered.

Hermione pulled out a small strand of instant photos that had obviously come from a snap and take photo machine. "Connections."

James slumped. "Why did you have to be so Slytherin?"

"Do not think that just because she's Slytherin that she is the only one getting enjoyment out of watching you squirm, James," Remus said as he walked in. The werewolf was standing tall and cheerful. He held out his own strand of embarrassing James and Lily photos. "You do realise you sent us all multiple copies in your drunken pride?"

"Including the ones with the candy ruby wedding rings," Minerva said said as she passed by. Her smugness was so high that her cat ears had sprouted up in her silvery hair, just under her pointed hat.

"Does anyone _not _have horribly embarrassing photos to share?" James moaned.

"I don't," Bane said as he walked by, tail flicking in amusement.

Remus was kind enough to pass him a few.

"Oh, it seems I do, nevermind," Bane said, picking up into a brisk trot to the High Table, whickering in his amusement. Bane met up with Firenze up at the High Table and very deliberately shared pictures with him too. Firenze nickered his amusement over the photos as well.

James facepalmed loudly.

"Karma, mate," Remus snickered. "I'm pretty sure Sirius posted a strand of them on the main bulletin board at the Auror's Office too."

"Wha—" James sputtered.

"It's what you get, James," Hermione said, "for trying to hide your wedding from all of us— _twice_."

James gaped like a fish out of water. "My parents wanted me to wear— I didn't want—"

Merciless accusing eyes descended upon him.

James sighed. "Alright, I was a right git. I promise we'll have a belated reception party at the Sunrise Kettle the next free weekend we can get everyone together."

As the group filtered up the High Table to take their places, James' eyes widened as he realised every placemat had a postcard on it with a picture of himself and Lily in Mickey Mouse ears with a bright red arrow pointing to it in oddly blinking ink. "The git who didn't invite us to the wedding" was scrawled in angry letters. To top it all off, written in fine and elegant script underneath it was a custom message thanking everyone for their gifts for Sirius and Evelyn's highly ostentatious summer wedding. Clipped to the card was a gift certificate for Eyelops Owl Emporium for a free bundle of assorted owl treats and pampering supplies as a thanks for all the courier-duty the owls had suffered in the summer heat. Even Bane and Firenze found a basket of centaur-friendly foods and preserves that suggested Evelyn had been busy cooking to make it happen. No one had been missed, and James knew that Lady Walburga Black would not have allowed _anyone _to have gone uninvited.

Hanging his head in shame, he knew his attempt to have a great time with Lily without all the "fanfare" had backfired completely. He had even missed his best mate's wedding in his attempt to placate his parents for not having a real wedding to begin with. So, while he was having a formal wedding in Hogsmeade trying to include all the business contacts for Lily's business, they had managed to pick the one day Sirius and Evelyn had already planned theirs, albeit under duress from Lady Black.

James hadn't sent them invitations because he figured they would all be busy with Sirius' wedding, and that had not settled well with his best mate— obviously by the cards on the table— and he was probably going to be paying for it for a long time to come.

He was hardly going to get away with confessing that he and Lily hadn't even gotten the invitation until after they had signed the papers for the day thanks to having lost it under a pile of owl-post they had been collecting since their elopement. Lily, of course, had been both embarrassed and livid at James, leading to their first post-marriage row. She declared him less socially competent than she was and swore that she would be taking care of all such things in the future, and he would be solely in charge of any necessary heavy lifting _without _his wand— even if she had to personally strap cargo to a certain moose's back.

Thankfully, thanks to minds that were infinitely more prepared than his, the entire wedding party of Sirius and Evelyn Black ported in after all the countless formal photos and official meets and greets were finally over on their end. Countless phoenixes had carried in the band's instruments and gear, chairs, and miscellaneous, and Sirius had dragged him off by his collar into the back to "have a little discussion between mates."

James had resolved to never, ever do anything that stupid ever again.

Lily reinforced this by volunteering James as a pack animal to help Sirius and Evelyn build and move into their new home in London. He didn't get his wand back until the very last box was sitting in the middle of the newlywed Blacks' glossy new hardwood floor.

At that point, James had resolved never, ever to do anything to piss Lily off like that again. _Ever_.

Sirius and Evelyn had discovered shortly after opening up their boxes that a female Kneazle had birthed her kittens on a towel in their new kitchen, and Lily got first pick of the litter when the kits had finally been weaned. James knew better than to object at that point— even when she came home with two kittens, a male and a female, instead of just one.

The first, Lily had named Ginger. She was a golden orange with bright white socks. The second, she had named Pickles. He was an olive-coloured tabby with dark black bands and a white plume for a tail. He had a fondness for standing on James in the morning, placing his rear feet directly over his privates. Lily had sworn it was because she loved the names from the Beatrix Potter story, but James was a bit dubious.

As a gesture of apology, James had traveled all across Britain to find the one house-elf who might be willing to work for the family of Sirius Black. Thanks to the reputation Sirius had gained due to the animosity between himself and Kreacher, no elf seemed to want to risk bonding themselves to a potentially abusive family— all but one. She was an older elf named Nanny who had lost her family and her home due to the war. She agreed to give them a trial run for a year and then decide on the bond after that. James couldn't ask for anything more of the elder elf and agreed.

As James looked at the vast collection of angry postcards on the High Table, he realised that he would be apologising for quite some time before forgiveness was an option. Or, if forgiveness had truly happened, the forgetting part was going to take more time— and a great deal of firewhisky.

As the children began to enter into the Great Hall, all of those at the Head Table rose to watch them enter. Some of them had been their peers only a year before. While those like Remus, Severus, and Hermione stood as full masters in their own right, James knew that he, Honey, Tala and Bane were considered apprentices.

Yet, as he exchanged looks with his fellows at the High Table, James couldn't help but feel he had come a very long way. He might not have apprenticed at an early age, or even figured out how to organise his own wedding without embarrassing himself, but he had come out of a rather chilling war alive. He couldn't help but think that things could have and would have been far, far worse. What little Hermione and Severus had shared when the arrival of the other timeline refugees had happened seemed to prove that his being alive was, in itself, a feat to be admired. The pair had been quite cryptic about what they knew about the possible futures, and while James admitted he understood why, part of him wondered just how different things would have been in a future where he had not survived the war. The very thought of having a child and having it end up under Petunia's care horrified him. Anyone who had ever met the vile woman— He shuddered. No, things were better as they were. He would accept them as they were, and he would rejoice in what he had.

The Sorting Hat had finished his song, and he watched Minerva place the Sorting Hat on the first student in the line. He knew the next generation started here— in that very moment when the hat decided what latent traits lay within.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat announced, and that house's students began cheering for their new member shortly after.

James smiled. It had begun, but _this _time he would have every reason to be the kind of proper role model he had failed rather epically at while growing up himself.

* * *

Lucius' hand hesitated, trembling slightly as it hovered near the door. The smooth, shellacked wood shimmered as it reflected the sun. The house sat high on the hill outside Aberdeen, Scotland. The winds from the nearby ocean carried the salt spray upward onto the path, but tenacious plants continued to grow despite the brine. The outside of the house looked innocent enough— Muggle even— but he could sense there was much more to this place than met the eye.

"Come in, Lord Malfoy," a wisened voice called from inside.

The door creaked open by itself.

Creepy.

Lucius stepped into the doorway. "Master Demeter?"

"Hello, Lord Malfoy, please," the voice called from around the adjoining room, "come and sit. The tea is already poured."

Lucius sat down somewhat awkwardly in the comfy armchair. He saw the poured tea and a small water fountain that seemed to be built into the table. A cinnamon-coloured cat was curled up on the top of the nearby chair, still save for the soft inhales and exhales of breath as she slept.

"Ah, hello, hello," Master Demeter greeted as she set down a pure white cat on the nearby footstool. "Welcome to my little piece of paradise."

"I will admit," Lucius said a little nervously, "I wasn't sure what to expect."

"Chicken feet and sacrificial goats perhaps?" Master Demeter chuckled.

" Nothing quite—"

The elder witch smiled. "It is no insult, Lord Malfoy. I am isolated here. The only socialisation of the Wizarding world are those that need my elixirs or my very organic goat's milk for making salves and soaps."

Lucius smiled a little, feeling a bit more at ease. "I was told by a friend that you could possibly help me… with a problem."

Demeter smiled kindly. "Do not worry, child. One thing about us old masters. We _do _stay in touch. I know what you need. I will help you. The Masters Snape helped me when they were but children. Hermione is a very special young woman. She allowed me to keep her claw clippings and shed feathers and a vial of tears each year. I mix them into my tinctures and help the locals with ailments they have no cure for in Muggle science. She does not know how many lives she has saved with her generosity, but I do not forget."

Lucius nodded with a tight smile. " She has always been— special."

Demeter absently stroked the sleeping cat on the chair. "I will need one thing from you other than the tears," she said after a moment. "One drop of your blood, freely given. The rest is up to me. I have prepared a room for you, Lord Malfoy. It is important that you remain near, but you need not participate, save the single drop of blood."

Lucius nodded, pulling the vial of tears out from his breast pocket. "How long will you need me to stay?"

Master Demeter gave a knowing smile. "As long as it takes, Lord Malfoy. Your blood will determine that."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I am ready. I think, after all these years, I am finally ready."

Demeter looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you love her?"

Lucius closed his eyes. "I didn't think I ever would— but I've come to realise that we are far more similar than we ever believed. It may not have been planned or even expected, but yes. I do...love her."

"That, my dear child, is a gift," Demeter replied. "Some never find this in all their life, even when sits right in front of them. Some spend so much time looking outward, they miss what is closest. At least now, with the threat of Darkness gone, we may rest a little easier, live a little lighter, and love a little more freely. The Muggles may never know the danger they were so close to, but we will know, yes? It is up to us to remember for them."

"Ah, there you are, my love," an elder wizard said as he descended the stairs. He tenderly placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm off to the town to get groceries and see if anyone is in need our our services. Do you need anything?"

"No, my dear, I have a little brewing to do for Lord Malfoy," Master Demeter replied. "Then, back to making that soap order for Caroline."

"Good woman, that Caroline," the wizard agreed. "I have to admire Muggle tenacity. Six children are a handful. Be back later tonight, my love."

The pair kissed politely, and the wizard ducked out the front door after giving a polite nod to Lucius.

"Enjoy your tea, Lord Malfoy," Master Demeter invited. " Guest quarters is around the corner to the right. The bath is connected to that, and the door to the garden is out through this backdoor here. Oh and that one drop of blood please."

She opened the vial of tears and held it out.

Lucius pointed his wand to his fingertip and cast a spell, wincing. One drop of crimson blood dripped into the tears.

"Thank you," she said with a nod. "Rest your mind, now." The witch was gone in a blur of coloured fabric.

* * *

"Narcissa," Lucius said, pulling his wife to him in the dimness of their shared bedroom. "Do not cry. I do not wish you to cry."

Narcissa stared up at him, her tears clear on her face. "I cannot give you an heir, Lucius— not after—what my father did to me."

Lucius pressed his lips to her forehead. "Please, Narcissa. Be at peace. Do you wish to have a child with me? I would not force you to bear a child you do not love."

Narcissa clung to him. "I want a child more than anything. A child— our child. When I was younger I didn't have a care for children, but now I truly want one and, I can't—" She gave a choked sob.

Lucius wiped her tears away. "Please do not cry, love." He pulled open the nearby drawer and lifted out a crystal flask. "If a child is what you truly want, then a child we can have."

"What—" Narcissa began.

"One sip every night until you conceive," Lucius explained. "One sip every night after until the child is born."

"What is this, Lucius?" Narcissa asked, her hands wrapped around the flask as she stared into the brilliant sapphire blue liquid within.

Lucius looked into his wife's eyes. "One last gift from Hermione, my love. On the night we were to going to announce our marriage, she gave me her tears and bade me take them to a Master Demeter in Aberdeen. She brewed me this— it will allow us to conceive and carry one child to term. A healthy child. No curse. No disease."

Narcissa pressed her face to the flask. "Hermione? Why? I have brought nothing but shame to our family."

Lucius pressed his forehead to his wife's. "Hermione believed we both deserved happiness, love. She believed when I could not that one day I would find love, and I would want a child with the one I loved. Somehow, she knew I would find love with you."

"I do love you," Narcissa said, sniffling. "I do."

"And I you, my love," Lucius said, pressing his lips to hers. "Allow me to show you how much."

* * *

"Mate, you have to help me!" Sirius fell at James' feet.

James' eyebrows rose into his hair. "What's wrong with you, mate? Why do you look like you've been in a row with a warthog?"

"She's craving the strangest things!" Sirius moaned. "She wants fresh creamed herring on her waffles! She wants salmon caviar mixed into her porridge. Rare bloody steak and a goose egg for breakfast— marshmallow fluff and peanut butter sandwiches! Chocolate-chilli ice cream topped with Hollandaise! She wants fresh cheese curds from some place called Wisconsin on top of chips and brown gravy! This morning she wanted fugu! Freaking _**FUGU!**_"

James blinked. "Is that a soup?"

"Pufferfish, mate!" Sirius whimpered. "She's craving things I've never even heard of, and she craves them at two in the bloody morning! She bit me! I didn't get moving fast enough and she actually _**bit **_me!"

James did his best gaping fish imitation. "I'm not sure what I can do to he—"

"I need to get my hands on some cream of chanterelle soup and wasabi peas," Sirius said. "Or I'm not going to get back to sleep tonight."

"Sirius?" Lily's sleepy voice called from the stairs. "It's three in the morning— is something wrong?"

"Lily—" Sirius moaned. "Please, please tell me you have some of that cream of chanterelle soup left over from your wedding buffet."

Lily gave him a very strange look.

"Please, sweet Mother of Merlin," Sirius pleaded. "If I don't get my wife that soup and some of those wasabi peas, she's going to _**murder **_me."

"I'll, uh—" Lily started to say. "I'll check the icebox. You're just lucky I managed to get someone to rig it to work on magic."

Sirius danced from leg to leg, looking like he really had to pee.

Lily came back up from the cellar a few minutes later. "Sorry, Sirius. We must have eaten the last of it. Our wedding was months ago."

"No, no, no," Sirius moaned. "She's going to set me on fire."

James closed his eyes. "You are _so _going to owe me for this one," he said.

_**Crack.**_

He disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later, James came back with two bundles in his arms. One was a mason jar filled with a thick, golden soup, and the other was a brightly-coloured tin of dried green peas that were encrusted with some sort of light green, powdery stuff.

"I had to wake my Lady Mother for this soup, mate, at three in the morning," James groused. "Just be glad it's her favourite soup and the house-elves always have some stashed away somewhere. The peas I had to wake up Alastor for, who was not happy about me waking up his pregnant wife to ask for wasabi peas. She had a tin left, and I had to promise to get Remus to come visit her this weekend for dinner, which means I have to babysit Hogsmeade children this weekend." He scowled.

Sirius hugged his feet and pressed his head to his boots. "I swear to the gods, mate, you have saved my life. Thank you. Thank you! Thank you!" He clutched the bundles in his hands.

_**Crack.**_

He disapparated.

"Now, I'm craving Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans," Lily sighed.

James pulled out a large bag from his robes and handed it over to his wife. "Unlike Padfoot, I was _prepared_."

Lily kissed him on the lips and dashed up the stairs with her prize of Every-Flavour Beans.

James smiled. Well, at least he wasn't failing at pleasing his pregnant wife. Only Merlin could know what sort of pregnancy Sirius' wife was going through to cause his mate to look like he'd been sleeping with Aberforth Dumbledore's goats. The worst thing Lily have craved had been roast beef and green olives at the same time. Thankfully, she had never craved anything overly bizarre that required Portkey usage to a foreign country. 24-hour Muggle convenience stores, yes. Port to Japan, no.

James wondered if Hope or Hermione were craving anything strange. Or Mc— Barberry? Merlin knew that the cat Animagus was Scottish, so she probably craved odd things by default. Did Honey crave… honey? Was that too presumptuous? What about Narcissa? James shook his head. He'd have to talk to the males of their growing fathers-to-be group, provided any of them had any time or space to do so. They normally met up weekly at the Three Broomsticks to share pre-parenting woes. Sirius probably wasn't going to be free to do much of anything for quite some time by the way things were looking.

James yawned, waved his wand to extinguish the lights, and shambled up the stairs to return to bed.

* * *

_Dear Lady Van Groot,_

_My sincerest apologies for the awkwardness of this question, but I am concerned about the chain of unusually strange cravings that my wife has been experiencing through her pregnancy. Evelyn, at least at this moment, refuses to think her cravings are even the slightest bit odd, but I have never experienced cravings for many of the things she has requested recently. If you could please share with us some possible trends in foods you may have craved during your pregnancy, perhaps it might help soothe my dear Evelyn during her time of great need._

_Sincerely,_

_Sirius Black_

_(his seal, the dog)_

_(Seal of the House of Black)_

* * *

_Dear Mr Black,_

_I fear that you may be in for a very long and turbulent first trimester, as all of our family have a history of intense cravings for the most bizarre foods while carrying a child. It seems that if we have twins, the cravings are even worse._

_One thing I have found that helps is a few of our more traditional dishes here in Holland. _

_Zure bom (a type of pickle)_

_Waterijs (it's a frozen desert. She likes the ones that come in three colours, a "raket")_

_Chocolade (chocolate)_

_Ontbijtkoek (gingerbread)_

_Yoghurt with fruit (she loves blackberries)_

_Blanke vla: (custard)_

_If you are looking for dishes that was curb the cravings try:_

_Your best bet is: Hutspot (potatoes, carrots and onions dish)_

_500 grams hutspot (from the store, it's 350 grams carrots and 150 grams unions all sliced)_

_600 grams potatoes_

_Boil them in a pot for a hour and then "stamp" them_

_Finished_

_Bami Goreng (a spiced noodle dish)_

_Bitterballen (a savoury meatball)_

_Worteltaart (carrot cake)_

_And a guilty pleasure she may have told you about is frikandel speciaal (which is a type of rough hot dog with ketchup, mayonnaise, and onions)_

_Something about the traditional and local foods staves off the worst of the cravings. You will still have to deal with craving fresh herring and bread at the same time, but the worst combinations such as kimchi with applesauce should not occur so frequently. _

_Be sure to provide whole milk and foods such as spinach, edamame, beets, artichokes, or beans. Liver seems to satisfy the odd cravings the best, but she was never a fan of it unless it was breaded and fried with bacon. Oddly enough, the Muggles have these spreads called Marmite and Vegemite that seem to do wonders, but that requires an excursion into the Muggle shops to find it._

_Whatever you do, try to introduce these foods before the cravings hit. That seems to work best. I ended up craving red shrimp and peanut butter one night because of neglecting to serve a portion of something more traditional that evening._

_My apologies for not warning you both sooner. Hopefully, this will help you to stabilise your lives and bring peace back into your nights. All I can say is, at least if you follow what happened to me, the odd cravings will cease after the first four months._

_Sincerely,_

_Lady Lotte Van Groot_

_(seal of the House of Groot)_

* * *

Regulus eyed the pile of Sirius that was passed out in his sister's private chambers with a somewhat sympathetic eye. His brother looked horrible, haggard, and akin to having slept with wild hippogriffs for months.

"Well that explains why he didn't show up to the guy's night out," Regulus noted. He walked up behind Hermione and gave her a hug from behind.

Hermione turned and gave him a full hug, smiling, one hand still holding her cooking flipper. "Hello, Regulus. How was the guy's night?"

"Full of scared, paranoid fathers-to-be, sis," Regulus chuckled. "I'm starting to have more respect for our Lord Father for taking everything so well over the years."

Hermione chuckled. "He will be pleased to hear it. Severus was busy in the laboratory, so he must have missed the paranoid and scared fathers-to-be meeting."

Regulus snorted. "Severus doesn't _need _ moral support. He takes everything in stride like our Lord Father."

"I paid attention," Severus said, walking into the kitchen to give his wife a kiss. "Unlike some Blacks."

Regulus slumped. "That is where my brother and I were the same. I'm only lucky that Honey only craves flower fritters. We have plenty of edible flowers between our home and Professor Sprout's greenhouses."

"Those smell wonderful," Severus observed. " What are those?"

"_Hutspot _pancakes," Hermione said. "I'm making a bunch of them so they can be preserved. Mum used to make potato pancakes for me when I was kid, so I tried it with the _hutspot_ that Lady Van Groot recommended for Evelyn. Maybe Sirius can get some sleep. I'm making enough to last into next year, so there is plenty for us too."

Severus chuckled, plucking one off the stack and sampling it. "Mm. Not bad. Carrots and onions in there?"

Hermione nodded. "I rather like the recipe. The eggies seem to like them too," she added, rubbing her abdomen.

Severus' expression softened. "No strange cravings, my Lady Wife?"

Hermione snorted softly, laughing. "Other than wanting to eat every bit of fruit I can get my hands on?"

Severus chuckled. "Fair enough. The cravings for durian and jackfruit were probably the most, ah…. interesting ones you ever had."

Hermione's eyes rolled back with remembered pleasure. "So good, though."

Severus pressed his lips to her forehead. "For you, love, anything."

"Just wait, Severus," Hermione ribbed, sliding her eyes over to peer at him. "It'll be your turn to incubate our little darlings."

Severus shook his head. "Helped with nest of twenty plus overdue lint-balls and a handful of eggy refugees. I figure I am exceedingly well practiced by now."

Hermione smiled. "We both are." She flipped the pancakes over. "Sirius may be passed out for a while. I may or may not have dosed his tea with a sleeping draught."

Severus lifted a brow.

"He does look absolutely miserable, brother," Regulus confessed.

Severus sighed. "I will concede to that. Oh, here," he added, passing Regulus a small vial of bright blue liquid.

"Hrm?" Regulus asked, taking the vial.

"Pre-natal vitamins," Severus replied with a sniff. "Finished them today. Extracts from everything fruity, flowery, and randomly Dutch. It should help with the cravings too, but don't tell this one. I like watching him squirm."

"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, bopping him over the head with her spatula.

Regulus snorted laughter. "I agree. It's great."

Hermione sighed, slumping. "Males."

"What's the dose?" Regulus asked.

"One drop a day taken plain or put it in a drink or food, doesn't matter," Severus explained. "The point is to take it. How you do so doesn't really matter. As I understand it, Lucius plans to spike Narcissa's morning tea because she is horrible at remembering to take her vitamins."

Hermione had a wistful look on her face. "I am glad they finally found each other."

Severus and Regulus nodded together. "Neither of them deserved what was done to them. At least they could find love after that."

"The pregnancy is definitely helping their morale," Regulus said. "Last I saw Narcissa, she was positively glowing."

"I am relieved to hear that," Hermione admitted. "I had hoped Lucius would eventually take my tears to Master Demeter."

"Ah, she's the one you send feathers, claw clippings, and tears to, aye?" Regulus asked.

Hermione nodded. "She makes elixirs the like of which I have seen nowhere else. She heals both animal and human, Muggle and magical. Gilford introduced us when were—"

"Barely thirteen, as I recall," Severus finished, remembering.

"The good old information bartering system?" Regulus inquired.

"Indeed," Hermione confirmed.

"What did she give you in exchange for the tears and clippings?" Regulus asked, curious. "Phoenix tears aren't exactly easy to come by— well normally. Unles you happen to be one or seem to have an extended family filled with them— okay I'll shut up now."

Hermione tilted her head back and laughed, shoveling the rest of the pancakes over on to the stacking trays. "I didn't ask for anything, but, she has shared quite a few recipes and tips for healing elixirs with Severus, part of which went into making those vitamins."

Regulus clasped the vial tightly and tucked it away into his robes. "I am constantly reminded how lucky I am to have you in my life, sis."

Hermione pulled her brother close. "None of that, now. I am equally blessed to have one such as you underfoot and in my life. How is studying for the N.E.W.T.s coming along?"

"I'm ready," Regulus affirmed. "Stephan wants me to wait and take the test with everyone else, though."

"Nothing wrong with enjoying your last year, Regulus," Hermione chided. "At least you don't have to worry about the Dark Lord or Dumbledore crashing your graduation before it even happens. Beardog only wants you to enjoy what little of your childhood you have left."

"Which would have gone ever so much better had you not gotten married and pregnant already," Severus quipped.

Regulus flushed. "At least I feel I am ready to to take up responsibility after graduation and take care of Honey and— whatever firstborn creature we happen to beget."

Hermione arched a brow in a very Snape fashion.

"Father gave us the lecture on the first born always being something magical. Sirius is hoping that if I end up with the magicals, his children will be normal— as if anything in our family was ever normal," Regulus mused.

Hermione's expression became thoughtful. "If it had not been for our Lord Father's most interesting genetic line, little brother, I may never have been born into this family. I wonder, often, what that would have changed."

"Sis, will you tell me? Please?" Regulus said, taking her hand. "Tell me what might have been. You and Severus should not have have to shoulder such a weight alone. Now that you are here, now, with us, is there harm in sharing what could have been?" Even at the age of seventeen, Regulus' curiosity had not waned in the slightest, nor had his enthusiasm faded.

"Tell you what," Hermione said. "Help me preserve all these pancakes and get them portioned off and help me owl off the vitamin and anti-nausea potions to our pregnant friends, and I will tell you the story— of what _could _have been."

Regulus, showing his impish face he was so known for, grinned like a Cheshire cat and set off to help, stacking pancakes in a frenzy of youthful enthusiasm.

Hermione exchanged glances with Severus, giving him a sly wink.

Severus pulled Hermione close to him, pressing his face into her hair.

* * *

It was sometime between the end of the story and Regulus pouncing his sister and engulfing her in a seemingly relentless embrace that Hermione's eyes grew very, very wide.

_Fwoop!_

Hermione was in her phoenix form and looking very anxious.

She fluttered out of Regulus' arms and made a bee-line for the bed chamber.

"What did I—?" Regulus asked, rather disturbed.

Severus could only blink and shake his head. He gestured for Regulus to follow him, giving permission to enter the once place everyone knew better than to go in uninvited.

They crept in slowly, perhaps wondering if Hermione was feeling nauseated or perhaps something even more worrisome. What they found, however, was not Hermione hurling into the bathroom, but a very disheveled-looking phoenix gathered up in a pile of cast aside teaching robes, settled down in the middle as she frantically plucked at her underdown to line her makeshift nest. She let out a surprised squawk and her eyes whirled, and she settled a little, resting her head against the side of the commandeered robes. Her feathers puffed up, and she squawked again, then finally let out a soft warble of relief.

Severus was in his phoenix form almost immediately, and he cuddled up next to his mate, flopping his dark wing over her protectively. Hermione trilled softly, tucking herself under him with a tired warble, and closed her eyes.

Regulus, careful and curious, gently lifted his sister phoenix off the nex to peer under her breast twin, shimmering light golden orbs pulsed underneath her, providing their own light in the darkness.

Regulus cradled his sister's feathered head between his palms and kissed the top of her beak. "They're beautiful, sis. Just like you."

Hours later, a very groggy Sirius peered around the door and saw a large bear curled up around a pile of discarded robes and a pair of sleeping phoenixes. "What did I miss?" he asked blearily.

* * *

_**Declining Wizarding Numbers? Nope!**_

_I'm not sure about you fine folks, but my darling wife is pregnant. Not only that,but most of our long-time friends are expecting too. The end of the threat of the Dark Lord and the exposure of the hidden snake in the grass, the so-called "Leader of the Light, the infamous Albus Dumbledore, has allowed the Wizarding world to take a deep breath and apparently find love again._

_Pureblood families, too, have been reporting record numbers of pregnancies, and everyone seems to be getting in on the rush of excitement over what comes nine months later. St. Mungo's has been flooded with prenatal checkups, and even healers are ecstatic to see such a crop of remarkably healthy babies on the way._

"_Healthy mums make for healthy babies," Healer Elvira Branston-Wilkes said. "We really couldn't ask for more for the expectant mothers-to-be. Less stress, less danger, more food, and less fear to come in for a checkup— all of this is a truly wonderful thing." _

_I don't know about you, folks, but I wonder what is going to happen twelve years from now when all of those babies turn eleven and start flooding Hogwarts all at once. The baby boom promises to be the likes of which none have seen in— well, we just haven't seen it before!_

_Lord and Lady Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy have already had their formal baby announcement party, and it looks like the pair, who were long concerned that they would remain barren, are expecting healthy twins!_

_Also on the list of war-hero and heroine parents-to-be are:_

_Lord and Lady Severus and Hermione Snape are also expecting, but the pair wish to keep the details under wraps at present._

_Mr and Mrs Alastor and Hope Moody. Thanks to the healers at St. Mungo's, they have confirmed that they, too, are expecting twins._

_Mr and Mrs Stephan and Violet Beardog are also expecting, but they are leaving it up to chance to guess if they, too, may be expecting more than one._

_Masters Gilford and Minerva Barberry seem to be following the trend of twins as well. They have left the genders a mystery in order for it to be a surprise. _

_Master Remus Lupin and his wife Apprentice Professor Tala Lupin discovered they were having twins quite by accident, having gone for a routine checkup to find out that Tala was carrying twins! What a surprise that must have been!_

_Auror Sirius Black and his wife Auror Evelyn Van Groot Black_

_Auror Regulus Black and his wife Honey Lovegood Black_

_Other expectant couples include:_

_[List of hundreds of names spanning over three pages of the Prophet]_


	49. 1978 Baby Blues and Pinks

**A/N:** Inspiration is hard. Just saying.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 49**

**1978 Baby Blues and Pinks**

_One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche_

_Saturday, August 26th, 1978, Moon Last Quarter 41%_

Remus and Tala opened up their house and garden for the first ever communal baby shower for just about the entirety of Wizarding Britain. It was a rather grand affair, and the witches all gathered in the cozy inside, helping decorate and prepare the nursery room as well as offering ideas and tips for the first-time mothers-to-be. The older witches that had been there and done that gave their sage advice to the younger generation, enjoyed a grand array of refreshments, and swapped stories large and small of what to expect as a mother.

The wizards, while not strictly forbidden to mingle, took to the outside, doing much the same as the women, only discussing all the trepidation they were experiencing as fathers-to-be. They discussed house safety, how to keep things safe for magical babies with a tendency towards accidental magic, and even how to deal with their wives' most peculiar and exotic cravings.

Severus had shared vials of prenatal vitamin and anti-nausea potions with all who attended, thanks to a timely donation of funds from St Mungo's Fund for the health of all the expectant mothers. Mungo's had decided that his potion was more than a little essential for the health of Britain's newest mothers and infants, and they had contracted him exclusively for making enough to keep Mungo's supply up. Severus had gratefully shared his proceeds with Master Demeter in thanks for her contribution to his formula.

While nowhere near as large as Malfoy Manor, the Lupin residence proved quite large enough to accommodate the steady influx of visitors. People arrived and left at different times, making it seem quite cozy but not overly crowded throughout the evening. Thanks to the influx of volunteer elves, who had long since been providing their services for pregnant witches and babies for generations, all the refreshments seemed to serve in conjunction with the vitamins in greatly lowering the stress level of each witch. The lavender lemonade and crystallized ginger scones, in particular, were huge hits. That, in turn, lowered the stress levels of their wizards, and it seemed as though many people were going home with helpful contacts, new friends, and old friendships renewed.

Remus and Tala seemed to be the sort of social balancers that Lyall Lupin never was, and many left him small tokens of thanks and well wishes, hoping that their children did not drive him _too _batty at Hogwarts.

Tala had arranged for the Homeless House-Elf Coalition to join them for the evening and get to know some of the families who visited. Thanks to her, many of the house-elves that had lost their homes and had been practically orphaned due to the war found new families to serve. Many a pregnant witch embraced their new elf with tears in their eyes, knowing that their lives would be a little less stressful with a house-elf there to help them. The house-elves were even more emotional, having been parted from a family to serve for "far too long."

By the end of the evening, only a single pair of elves had apparently been overlooked despite the exposure, and Tala and Remus welcomed the two into their home and chambers at Hogwarts with open arms. Gussy and Frisbee joined the Lupin family with what could only be called ecstatic gratitude.

Every attendee was given a gift basket with anti-craving recipes, snack foods, pregnancy-friendly potions for general ailments, baby blankets, pacifiers, teething ointment, knitting patterns, invigoration potions, preserves, medicinal chocolate, sample tins of herbal teas and cocoa, a handy guide with tips about pregnancy and infant care, a gift certificate from Magical Little Things baby boutique, and a gift certificate for Witch and Waverly boutique, along with other various other samples and gifts from the merchants of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley.

By the time the evening's social event finally tapered off, the Lupin's new house-elves had already cleaned up the mess and tucked the couple in, leaving the Snapes and Barberrys to close the door on the way out, latch the gate, and then Disapparate home.

* * *

_Saturday, September 9th, 1978_

Orion gave a knowing smile as he watched his wife fussing over his daughter as she sat atop her twin eggs. Severus had coughed them up for Hermione to nest on, and they had been sharing custody of the growing eggs with equal enthusiasm. Now, Walburga was turning the eggs inside her yarn basket just long enough before the fussy phoenix mum couldn't take it anymore and had to sit on them.

Now, mother and daughter were sharing each other's company as Walburga busily knit away, telling Hermione all the news of world as she knew it— via the social circles. Orion felt a contentment settle in his mind knowing that mother and daughter were finally at peace. Now that Hermione was out on her own and succeeding in life as well as in an established magic-blessed marriage, there was nothing weighing on Walburga that she had failed as a mother. Now, Walburga could relax and be the compassionate woman that lay within under all that was proper— the woman Orion had always loved.

This, Orion knew, would also relieve the stress on his two sons. While they had not failed in any way that would bring permanent shame upon the family, Sirius had always been of particular concern. Regulus had always been the youngest, and that just triggered Walburga's protective expectations. Finding out he had been magically married was both a relief and a stressor, but the boy had a great career ahead of him. His choice in wife, Orion and Walburga readily approved of. It was just the timing— bad enough that Hermione had been married unexpectedly to save her life, but they had founded their own magical line. It was therefore— forgivable.

Orion knelt by the yarn basket and gently lifted the two eggs out. Bright golden orbs were growing a little larger and a little brighter. The shells were slowly darkening, but the thrum of magic and strong heartbeats pulsed within his hands. Hermione laid her head over his arm and chirped at him, trusting him with her unborn babies. He soothed her feathers as he gently placed the eggs back down in the yarn basket. She stared up at him with the same adoration he remembered from the very first day she had come into the world, and it set his heart beating faster with pride and love. He leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her feathered head crest. "I'm so very proud of you, my chick," Orion whispered, running his hand across her warm feathers.

Hermione leaned into his arm and warbled contentedly, her eyes drifting closed.

* * *

"Mr Swanson, are your eyes dysfunctional, or do you believe that the instructions for today's potion have been written on Miss Jenkins' face?"

Swanson hurriedly tried to look forward and accidently knocked over something into his cauldron. It churned violently and blew up, coating Swanson and his lab partner with sparkling purple goo.

Severus closed his eyes, counting to ten, knowing that there was nothing in the ingredients that could have caused anything fatal but was annoyed just the same. He was suddenly understanding why Severin was so justifiably cranky when teaching. Teaching was bad enough when people were paying attention, but most of these lazy sods would rather pay attention to their hormones or their collection of chocolate frog cards than not blowing things up.

Severus waved his wand, cleaning the goo up with a few flicks. "Mr Swanson, you will be enjoying my hospitality during detention tonight, and so will you, Miss Tannin, for passing notes in class instead of paying attention."

The young witch gasped audibly, perhaps wondering how Severus had even known since he had been looking in the complete opposite direction.

Severus sighed. It was clear that Slughorn's teaching methods were _far _more lax than he himself preferred. Learning from Master Barberry had always been exciting and fun, but he had been very strict on the hows and whys, and the one thing he absolutely did _not _tolerate was disobedience. If he said stir to the right three times and sneeze, you did it without question. Later you would have an opportunity to ask why, after the potion had been completed. It was disrespectful and too dangerous to do otherwise. That was something that had been thoroughly drilled into Remus, Hermione, and himself many times over.

Truth be told, most of these students would never be considered for an apprenticeship. There was not enough focus, not enough will, and definitely not enough drive in the majority of Hogwart's students. Perhaps, the greatest lack was that of sheer intellect. It wasn't to say that all of the students were drooling imbeciles, though they did tend to act like it more often than not. They did _not _push themselves to know more. They did _not _thrive on wanting to know more either. It seemed as though their curiosity was limited to Quidditch, broom closet gropings and fumblings, fashion, cosmetics and basically anything _but _academics. Even Slytherin, which often prided itself on attracting people of high ambition, was full of students whose loftiest goals were silly, frivolous things like sneaking an extra sticky bun from the kitchens after hours and getting away with sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower for late-night trysts.

Still, so help him, he would at least get them to the point where they passed their O.W.L.s. What they did after that was their own success or failure. They would then finally learn the true meaning of karma. If they blew themselves up after learning the basics, it would not be because he hadn't taught them any better.

* * *

Remus had a sneaking suspicion that the werewolf aspect of their lives was starting to become more dominant in his wife when he returned to his chambers to find that the bedroom had been— redecorated.

Hogwarts had seemed to take things in stride for their resident werewolves, but the results still proved more than a bit unsettling. While the entryway and office were precisely the same, and the bathroom was exactly where it should have been, the master bedroom had been turned into a proper lupine den.

Oaken roots, loamy earth, grassy hillside, and a very distinct hole led into the gloom beyond, seeming very much like a mysterious woodland cave. The ceiling was akin to the one in the Great Hall— enchanted so the real weather was reflected above them. There was even a small stream with crystal clear water and jumping fish in a deep pool nearby, almost as if someone had carved out a piece of the Dark Forest and inserted it into his bedroom.

"Tala?" Remus called, slightly unnerved and yet utterly fascinated at the same time. Hogwarts had never done _anything _like this for him before. So what had changed?

A robin sat on a branch nearby, singing very loudly for everyone else to get the hell off _his _lawn, and Remus was suddenly strongly reminded of Master Barberry. This bird, however, was a bit duller in the orange and had speckles where Barberry did not. Still, he wondered if Barberry would end up in a fight should he ever come over to visit.

Deciding that he had to investigate, Remus descended onto all fours and let his wolf shape swallow him up. He sniffed around the outside of the opening in the hillside. Tala had _definitely _been at work. He could smell her scent strongly everywhere. Whining softly, he trotted into the hillside entrance. The inner corridor twisted and turned before coming into larger cavern. He sniffed the air and looked around. The floor of the cavern had been very carefully lined with thick moss and other soft plants.

Tala, who had seemingly embraced her inner wolf so thoroughly that she had skipped right over studying to be an Animagus and gone straight to a full wolf-form, lay triumphantly over her pile of comfy moss, her tongue lolling happily.

A soft, yawning whine caught his attention, and Remus' eyes widened. There, beside his mate, was Evelyn Black in her cocker spaniel form, curled up next to Tala, looking equally tired and triumphant. The lupine and canine had been very busy indeed.

Twin tails wagged at Remus as he slowly wagged his tail in sheer disbelief.

Apparently they had taken the entire girl-bonding exercise to an entirely new level of intimacy.

Remus approached, tail wagging as he licked his mate's muzzle. He lay down beside her and gave a soft, contented whuff.

* * *

Sirius leaned in closer to the middle of the table. "Remus, have you noticed any strange changes in Tala, erm, recently?"

"The strong denning urge or the extra teats?" Remus asked nonchalantly, his manner utterly deadpan as he relaxed in his chair, flipping casually through a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Sirius blinked, jaw dropping. "How— how the _hell _are you taking this all so well, mate?"

Remus flicked his eyes up to meet Sirius'. "I'm a werewolf, Sirius. I happen to think it will give our unborn children considerably less to haggle over."

"Consider them added assets," Moody added, taking a swig of his beer. "More to have and to hold."

Sirius practically choked on his own drink.

Moody leveled his gaze. "Seems perfectly natural to me. Not sure why _you're _making such a big deal about it."

"How are you so _calm _over these strange mutations?" Sirius demanded accusingly.

"Highly magical families with a strong imprint of their Animagi, magic, and werewolf natures, Black," Severin said with a sniff. "Do you really expect that to manifest in an entirely normal fashion?"

Severus and Severin exchanged looks of total exasperation.

"Says the bloke who may be the only one here _not _having twins," Sirius sighed.

"Not for lack of _trying_, Black," Severin replied with a smirk.

"Argh, I did _not _need to know that!" Sirius waved his hands frantically.

Severus gave Sirius a rather pointed look. "You make us read all about _you _fornicating at the feet of a statue of Pan in the middle of London proper, and you have the audacity to freak out over a natural process that didn't occur in public while completely inebriated?"

Sirius slumped, mumbling something about cheese and confetti.

"How is Jean doing, 'Uncle'?" Severus asked, chuckling.

The elder Snape snorted. "She is quite well. Amelia has her working desk duty during the pregnancy to prevent her from being exposed to anything potentially hazardous. Merlin knows what our child would come out as when exposed to chaos flux or time sands."

"Wise woman," Severus agreed. "She is also very considerate."

Severin nodded. "That she is. Jean is, well, Jean. She doesn't like it much, but she'll do as Amelia asks. She's often with Maya, exchanging woes like two mother hens gossiping in the hen house."

"That must make Silvanus positively ecstatic," Severus mused, his lips twitching slightly with amusement.

"Having someone to talk to is a true gift after all we have gone through," Severin reasoned. "I am glad they have each other."

Severus nodded.

"We figure out how on Earth Hogwarts managed to make that communal den to connect with our women's denning instincts?" Moody asked, mildly curious.

"Hogwarts," Sirius reasoned. "Can we ever truly know what the school can or cannot do?"

"Hope feels better having a place to go and bond with her four-legged compatriots as well," Moody said. "She may be a Muggle, but her heart is full of magic. She has truly come to love being a part of the world she had always been forced to remain apart from for decades."

"Oi, where is my baby brother?" Sirius asked. "He's normally here like clockwork."

"Helping Potter with sneaking the family cradle out of her sister's attic," Moody muttered. "I didn't want to know more, so I didn't ask."

"Oh, the heirloom," Sirius said with a nod. "It was supposed to go to Lily, but Petunia took it saying that no _freak _was ever going to lay in their precious family heirloom."

Severus and Severin curled their lips simultaneously.

"Hopefully Regulus doesn't actually end up meeting them face-to-face," Severin commented. "I doubt it would go very well, and I doubt they have changed much between here and my own time."

Sirius shuddered. "Horrible people. Lily told me not to come because she knew I'd do something—very bad."

Severus and Severin glowered darkly together.

Severin lifted his head. "Tell me, Black," he purred acidically. "Did you ever perfect the human transfiguration into a hippo spell?"

Sirius lifted his head. "How did you—?" Suddenly, a thoroughly wicked grin crossed his face. "I just may have."

Severin gave a tight, unnerving smile. "Pity if it were to go to waste— all that practice, you know."

* * *

_**Rare Species of Endangered Hippopotamus Found in London House**_

_**Family Suspected in Illegal Animal Trafficking**_

_A rare and endangered pink pygmy hippopotamus was found in a house in Little Whinging, Surrey yesterday. This exceedingly uncommon specimen, which is rarely seen alive in the wild or in captivity, was wreaking total havoc across multiple yards before trapping Mrs Petunia Dursley atop her kitchen counter as she called *999. _

_Mrs Dursley, who was taken to the nearby London hospital for multiple injuries and psychological trauma, was reported to be "bloody hysterical" and proclaiming that the animal was actually her husband, Vernon Dursley. _

_Vernon Dursley, who has been missing since last night, is suspected in illegal animal trafficking. He has not been found, but authorities are pursuing all leads._

_People who believe they have information regarding the whereabouts of Vernon Dursley are recommended to call 101._

* * *

"It's _beautiful_, Minerva," Hermione exclaimed, beaming from ear-to-ear.

"Gilford made all the perches and platforms, but ach, the nest. That was all me, I fear."

"It's a perfect cat bowl, Minerva," Hermione said with a grin. "A little bird and a whole lot of feline went into it."

Minerva smiled. "I am blaming you, you know. You and your nesting influence."

Hermione blinked innocently and adjusted her halo. "Me?"

"Mmhmm," Minerva tutted.

"Can't be too careful," Hermione said. "Instincts are pretty hard to suppress, and so far, they haven't ever led me wrong."

"Knowing my luck, I'm going to end up with kittens with cute little robin wings," Minerva supposed.

Hermione grinned. "Adorable!"

Minerva winked. "Exactly."

Hermione gave her Master a knowing glance. "Kittens or eggs?"

Minerva tapped her fingers to her chin. "Would it be too much to ask for eggs after everything else we've been given?"

Hermione winked. "I rather like shared custody eggs."

"How does the betting pool look?" Minerva asked, mischief written across her face.

"Sirius thinks he's going to be the one to dodge the Black family magical bloodline," Hermione chuckled. "He believes Regulus is going to have the magical firstborn since I married out and became a Snape."

"And Orion?" Minerva asked. "What does _he _believe?"

"Hellhounds," Hermione recalled with clear amusement. "He's guessing four by the way Evelyn has been excavating her spot in Remus' den. He's thinking either minotaur or gryphon for Regulus and Honey's first-born. I hate to say it, Minerva, but I think everyone agrees you are going to have catbird kittens."

Minerva scoffed at that, shaking her head.

"To be fair, my Lord Father believes you will lay some eggs and they will hatch into catbird kittens," Hermione added.

Minerva snorted. "How often is your father ever wrong?"

Hermione's face twisted in thought. "Erm— he isn't."

Minerva's eyebrows lifted into her hair. "Well then, I had better drink enough milk, aye?"

Hermione leaned closer. "Salmon also has plenty of calcium, my master."

Minerva gave her a very feline grin.

* * *

"Eggs?!" Sirius moaned. "Why can't Evelyn have eggs! Only my sister and McGonagall are lucky enough to get eggs!"

"Barberry," Remus quipped, marking up the parchments in front of him.

"McBarberry, whatever!" Sirius threw up his hands in total exasperation.

Moody reached over and soundly smacked Sirius upside the head. "You may be an adult, pup, but she's _still _your elder."

"It's so not fair!" Sirius moaned, banging his head futilely against the table top.

"Life isn't fair," Moody sighed. "You are _such _a whiny bellyacher, Black."

"You didn't have to run all across Creation to find fresh octopus for your craving mate, Alastor," Sirius grumped.

"No, I _fed _my mate until she was fully sated before we went to bed," Moody grunted. "And then I made most glorious love to her until she couldn't move."

"_**ARGH!**_" Sirius yelped, clutching at his ears and practically quivering with distaste.

Remus and Alastor grinned and high-fived over Sirius' head.

"You are _so _pathetic, Sirius," Remus said, scribbling over his parchment essays. "You used to crow so very loudly about all of your random sexual exploits. And with a truly _disturbing _amount of detail, I might add."

"That was totally different!" Sirius protested hotly.

Two pairs of pitiless eyes stared back at him.

"Why did I have to be surrounded by _wolves_?" Sirius moaned.

"Ah, my son," Orion's voice broke into his elder son's wallowing with a distinctive cheer. "Did you think that somehow the world around you stopped expressing their love towards their most beloved mates just because your mind finally emerged from the foul slews it had been wallowing in for the majority of your adolescent years?"

Sirius bolted up and stared, his face immediately going pale. "Father?!"

"The invitation _did _have my name upon it," Orion said, brandishing his own brandy snifter.

"_I_ invited him," Remus offered, continuing his grading. "_Someone_ had to provide reasonable adult conversation for Alastor while I finish my grading."

"So, Lord Black," Moody said, leaning in with a rather evil grin. "Any tips for a younger wolf?"

Orion sported a rather unnerving grin of his own. "I believe I have a few. Shall we start from the top— or the bottom?"

Moody had a sly look upon him. "Middle."

"Excellent choice."

Sirius' eyes went incredibly wide with horror just before he went fleeing out the chamber door, hands clamped firmly over his ears.

Orion exchanged looks with Moody. "As I was saying, when attempting to do a proper foot massage, starting in the middle of the foot is best."

* * *

"Are you sure you wish to do this, my Lady?" the guard asked her solicitously as she and Severus entered through Nurmengard's iron gates.

Fawkes warbled softly from Hermione's shoulder as Audra chirped pleasantly from Severus'. The two phoenixes seemed to take in the towering fortress with a whistle of pure admiration. The tall, black towers seemed to be made of solid obsidian or perhaps the darkest of granite. Sun didn't reflect off it as much as it seemed to be absorbed, and there was an odd thrum of power about the stonework.

Audra gave a nervous warble, and Severus gently soothed her feathers. Fawkes preened his mate tenderly, but the two phoenixes clung to Hermione and Severus' shoulders faithfully, not wishing to let them go to this place of all places alone.

"The fortress absorbs solar energy and the magic inherent in the surrounding lands and uses it to enhance the magical containment spells within the wards, both inside and outside of the place," the guard explained. "Makes the place virtually indestructible and utterly inescapable. It can run after a good, sunny day for about a month, even if the weather is dismal, as it usually is. Wind powers the peaks above, running through crevices and feeding the wardstones as well, and the water wheels in the moat also feed back into the power reservoirs. It was made to maintain itself with a minimum of human interference, but humans guide the magic and tend the wards, moving it to provide an additional layer of security to the areas that are currently inhabited.

"The guards take shifts, living here for a month at a time and then switching off with the next guard in rotation. Four shifts per day to keep us alert. The living quarters are on the opposite side, separate from the cells. And of course house-elves do the cooking and deliver meals remotely. But Gellert— he hasn't had any visitors in a very long time, and his cell is purposely kept isolated from all the rest. His reputation made us extremely cautious. We couldn't risk him causing harm to the guards or anyone else. Even the other prisoners will only speak his name in the lowest of whispers.

"You have heard the truth of Grindelwald?" Severus asked.

"Aye, Lord Snape, we have," the guard answered with a grim nod. "I am Ambrose Worth, by the way. I apologise for not introducing myself earlier. Everyone here knows each other, yet we rarely use names. The locals believe it is better this way so the prisoners cannot use the information against us. How much of that is true, I cannot say, but we tend to abide by their customs to make them feel more at ease."

"We do understand," Hermione said with a smile and nod.

"The truth of his past is only now starting to trickle down to this place," Ambrose stated. "Many call it a mere rumour. We have lived here for far too long believing that no one in this place is redeemable. That is why they are here in Nurmengard in the first place. No one wishes to be the first to attempt communication and end up suffering for their efforts."

"You may find our approach is a little," Severus started to say and then paused a moment. "Unconventional. And if it were any other prisoner, it likely would not help at all."

"I will trust your judgment," Ambrose said with a nod. "When the doors open, he will be stunned in suspended animation until the doors close. When you wish to return, tap the sphere on the pedestal and say today's word "Greenland" and it will suspend the room again. Each prisoner is attuned to their cell. This allows us to enter whenever we need to without worry of prisoners lurking to ambush us at the door. If you would please leave your wands with me before going in."

Severus and Hermione passed over their wands.

"I'll have them for you when you come out," Ambrose said. "For what it is worth, I hope you do get through to him. If he's been here all this time for unspeakable crimes that were actually committed by Dumbledore, then he deserves all the help he can get. All of us here practically grew up with stories of the great Albus Dumbledore, never thinking that the story had been untrue. Even the prisoners here have always believed them."

"Did he ever profess his innocence?" Hermione asked.

Ambrose shook his head sadly. "No. He does not speak as much as he mumbles, and what he mumbles rarely makes any sense. Sometimes, he screams, but most times he is deathly quiet. It's positively eerie."

The two Snapes gave the guard a grim nod, and Ambrose put his hand on the sphere near the transparent door.

"Good luck," the guard offered then nodded for them to proceed.

Hermione and Severus stepped past the door into the tower cell that had been Grindelwald's prison for over three decades.

* * *

At first, Hermione and Severus did nothing. It was Fawkes and Audra that flew in first. Hermione and Severus perched on the rafters above, silently watching the goings on, but they did not attempt to interfere. Fawkes and Audra both had a history with Gellert, and both Snapes knew that the best chance they had in reaching him was through the one thing that was both comfortingly familiar and had never once betrayed him.

For a wizard like Gellert Grindelwald, such trust and unconditional acceptance had always been in short supply.

Hermione and Severus roosted together, calmly watching Fawkes and his mate perch near the elder wizard and begin sweetly singing to him. The wizard scrunched up his face, peering at them as though he was having trouble focusing his eyes enough to see clearly.

"Fawkes?" His voice was gravelly and unfamiliar to use. "Now, I know I am dying if I am seeing you in this hellhole."

The cell chamber was not what one might expect of a Merlin-forsaken hellhole. There were spartan furnishings, a bed, a bookshelf with books, and even writing quills with ink. Yet, despite the amenities, it was still clearly a prison, and perhaps anything that took away freedom made it all the more hellish, despite how much he was given.

Fawkes slowly hopped closer, warbling, and Audra shuffled in closer too. She rustled her violet wings, chirring softly, her deep purple eyes whirled. Gellert slowly reached out to touch Fawkes, his hand moving as if through thick mist. Suddenly, his face twisted in pain and anger. "No! You are a lie!" He stood up, flinging his table across the room, his parchments and books flying in random directions. The two phoenixes took off, flying toward the far bookshelf.

Gellert clutched his head, pained. His hands clenched into his hair; his fingers dug into his scalp. "No," he moaned. "You are just a memory. Memory of my failure." He crumpled to his knees, falling into a fetal position, folding in upon himself.

Fawkes landed nearby, warbling again. Slowly, he walked towards him, one step after another. Audra mirrored him, slightly more shy. Fawkes neared the distressed wizard and slowly pressed his head against Gellert's cheek.

Gellert let out a gasp of surprise, his hand trembled as he touched Fawkes' head, back, and tail. "Real?" A choking sob came from his throat, and he pulled Fawkes into a desperate embrace. "So long— so long—" he moaned.

Fawkes had set himself on fire, but it was a dark purple fire that did not burn. It spread down Gellert's arms and into the rest of his body. Gellert continued to sob, holding the magical bird close. His body froze in the embrace, too stunned to move further, and Gellert himself seemed too moved to speak.

Audra hopped closer, insinuated herself under Gellert's other arm, and set herself on fire too, adding her healing magic to Fawkes'. Hermione and Severus warbled softly from above, preening each other as they waited, allowing Fawkes and Audra to help heal the weight of decades of guilt, pain, and betrayal.

Once, they knew, the two phoenixes had been close to Gellert. While not bound by a familiar bond, they had something that was almost more significant due to not having a bond of magic between them: friendship. Once, Gellert had been chosen to help them guard their nest of eggs— a nest that had once held the very eggs that made Hermione and Severus who and what they were now. Whatever old ties Gellert had with the phoenix pair seemed to be rekindling, and the wizard was relaxing at last. Purple flames slowly spread across his body, covering him with a blanket of pure magical healing.

Fawkes gave a soft chirp, looking up.

Hermione and Severus fluttered down nearby, nervous, but at the same time trusting in Fawkes' judgement.

Gellert's eyes strained to see in the shadowy gloom. "What—?"

His arm loosened around Fawkes as his hand slowly extended.

Hermione blazed ahead, somewhat cautiously, her mate keeping by her side. Gellert's hand lay on the floor, fingers extended with a slight curl. Hermione tentatively stepped onto his fingers and shuffled onto his wrist.

Gellert pulled her in closer, all signs of his previous outburst gone. "Grown— never did I expect to see one grown. Not after Albus—" His face twisted with agony. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _My _fault." He pressed his face into Hermione's feathers, warm tears trailing down her neck and across her back.

Hermione warbled softly, thumping her head into Gellert's hand like a cat seeking a pet. Severus chirped nervously, but joined her, slowly lowering his head in invitation.

Gellert's eyes grew wide, his hand slowly caressing Severus' sleek, black feathers. The two younger phoenixes stared into Gellert's eyes— and understood.

Fawkes laid his head on Gellert's wrist and stared into the wizard's eyes. He drew the time sands to him, cast himself in purple flames, and shared the imprint of one moment in time—a personal moment—that was the beginning of the strange and complicated life of Gellert Grindelwald.

* * *

"_I fear none shall ever adopt __**that **__one," the somewhat sad-looking woman said as she shuffled through the paperwork. "They say he killed his parents with accidental magic at the tender age of twelve." _

_Albus Dumbledore stared into the orphanage. "Yet you say he has been going to school?" _

"_Durmstrang boards him during the school terms," the woman answered. "In the summer, he has nowhere else to go but here." _

"_His marks in school are extremely high," Albus said, thumbing through the parchments. "Years ahead of his peers." _

"_He's a true prodigy, Mr Dumbledore," the witch said thoughtfully. "But he doesn't relate well to other people anymore. Ever since his parents— well, he takes care of the animals around the orphanage more than he talks to people. If you are looking for someone that you can apprentice, you may have your hands full with him." _

"_What is life without a little challenge?" Albus chuckled. _

"_Well, if you're sure, Mr Dumbledore," the witch said with a nod as she pulled the files together. "I can't say that it won't be a bad thing. So much potential seems a waste here at the orphanage." She pulled a hefty stack of folders out and sighed. "It's going to take a while to go through all of this." _

"_Is that all of it?" Albus asked. "All for one young boy?" _

"_He's a lightweight compared to some, but yes, this is all of it," the witch chuckled. _

"_Ah, thank you Ms Garamond," Albus said with a small smile. "You have been most helpful to me." _

"_It's no trouble at all, Mr Dumb—" _

_Garamond fell back in her chair, eyes rolling back in her head._

"_I'm sorry, Ms Garamond," Dumbledore said apologetically as waved his wand over the desk, vanishing all of the folders. "I fear we will not be sharing that cup of tea you promised. __**Obliviate**_."

* * *

"_There we go, Gellert," Albus instructed. "Hold this close and we will begin our journey."_

"_This will keep bad things from happening again?" the boy asked, his blond hair falling down across his face._

"_Yes, we are going to make it so bad things do not happen to those we love, never again," Albus said softly. _

"_I don't want anyone else to die because of me," the boy replied quietly, his blue eyes haunted and shadowed with pain._

"_No, when everything comes to fruition, Gellert," Albus said. "We will never need to fear Death ever again." _

_Gellert clutched the strange device tightly in his hand. "I'm ready." _

_Albus and Gellert disappeared._

* * *

Gellert's hand trembled as he drank his first cup of tea as a free man. Fawkes and Audra hadn't left his side since they had secured his release from Nurmengard's fortress prison. Years of age had seemingly melted off of him as the combined and uninterrupted time-healing the two phoenixes had given him finally had taken root once again.

The small cottage they had built for him was erected on the humble and hidden coast that Violent and Stephan Beardog had made their home, maybe a mile or two away. Close enough to be neighbours but not enough to encroach on Gellert's need to slowly recover and eventually reintegrate into life in the Wizarding world, Violet sent Viktor, his new mate, and his newest brood of chicks to check on him from time to time.

Weeks had passed since he had left Nurmengard, but freedom— true freedom— had proven to be rather elusive. Now, as he sat with Hermione and Severus, his hands always in contact with either Fawkes or Audra, he was finally able to set the truth about his past free so he could be truly free.

Healers from the Department of Mysteries had come to assess how many years he had actually lost of his life due to Dumbledore's shameless manipulations— using the boy's magic and youth to power his first jumps through time— and heal some of the damage they could in conjunction with the phoenix therapy.

"We were always moving," Gellert said, sipping his tea. His eyes drifted closed with pleasure as he seemed to savour every little bit of flavour and sensation. "He would teach me things— our mission, our quest, our Greater Good— and he would drill it into me so often that it soon became all that I knew. By the time we landed in the time he had left— my future, his present— there was nothing in my head but the mission: to become the masters of Death. I didn't even remember _why_. But I didn't care. I was so totally focused on Albus' plan— disgusted by anything or anyone that took me from the mission for even an instant. I was perfectly, single-mindedly, focused."

Amelia and a few key Unspeakables nodded. Gellert had welcomed them and the Snapes to come listen to his recollections. They spoke each week at a time that he chose. For them, it was filling in the blanks of history as they knew it. For Gellert, however, it was pure therapy.

Gellert refilled his tea, seemingly far more settled in his present situation. "Fawkes found me. Perhaps he had always been following me. I was a time refugee, after all. I had been stolen from my true time, and with each jump, I grew older, more focused, more jaded, and more perfectly suited to Albus' plans. I don't think he knew what Fawkes' arrival would do, and to be honest, when I first met him, I was so focused on plotting that I didn't even realise he was there. Slowly, I started to remember myself. I started to remember that I hadn't ever wanted to hurt _anyone_."

"Around then, Albus began to suspect that Fawkes was responsible for my abrupt change in demeanor— a very unwanted change in his perfect compatriot," Gellert said. "Not long after that, he discovered what would soon become my replacement: Audra's eggs. The phoenix egg was the perfect, ideal parcel of time-power that he needed, and while I think he did care for me in a way, it was not the kind of love that couldn't be sacrificed for that self-same greater good."

"When I fell that day, he must have seen it as sort of a half-blessing," Gellert mused aloud. "I was even more confused— so easily I could be simply _told _what to think. Yet, sometimes… sometimes, I think I had the occasional moment of clarity. With that came an overpowering rush of anger and rage for all he had done. And one day, he realised he had all that he needed from me. He took his eggs, fought me, and made sure I was packed off to Nurmengard as a Dark Wizard— an insane lunatic bent on ruling the world. The history was all there, you see. I was— I had— done horrible things. I did such horrible things, and all for the love of one power-hungry man and his vision of an ideal future for the world."

"The authorities had no reason whatsoever to think me redeemable," Gellert confessed with a sigh. "I screamed at them. I almost killed a guard with my bare hands, dragging him into the bars and slamming his head repeatedly between the spaces. I knew nothing but vivid hallucinations and absolute _rage— _ and then it was replaced by a sense of profound despair. By the time I had finally come to regain some semblance of sanity again, it was far too late. My grim reputation found me sealed away alone in the highest tower, kept isolated from everyone and everything. Even the other prisoners feared my very name."

Hermione and Severus changed into their phoenix forms and joined Fawkes and Audra in the elder wizard's lap. His face changed in a sort of painful relief. Gently, he stroked their feathers and smiled. "I'll be okay again. At last, I am free."

* * *

_**Gellert Grindelwald Freed After Truth of Albus Dumbledore's Framing Him As a Dark Lord**_

_After the truth of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore shook the Wizarding world to the core, the latest redeemed victim of his time-tinkering is the infamous Gellert Grindelwald._

_Long considered to be the Dark Lord before the once Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort, the truth was far more sinister. Gellert Grindelwald was kidnapped from the orphanage that had been his home after his parents had died in a fiendfyre incident. Irony of ironies, however, Gellert had been long thought to have been guilty of killing his own parents in his first act of rising as the Dark Lord. _

_Authorities have gone over past "evidence" during the time of Grindelwald's first showings of destruction, and many of these fixed events have been traced back to the direct tinkering of the ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts. _ _While many events are yet to be researched, a distinctive pattern has fully redeemed Mr Grindelwald as a victim, not a Dark Lord._

"_It's going to take time for Mr Grindelwald to become comfortable as a free citizen of Wizarding Britain once again," Wizengamot member Cordelia Blishwick said. "We ask that you give him time and space to reacquaint himself with the world as it is, all that has changed, and develop a sense of connection with it again. This last war taught us that all of the good guys weren't always wearing white, as the Muggle saying goes. Whatever stories you might hear should always be taken with the proverbial grain of salt. We're not saying __**every **__story is wrong, but we must learn from our mistakes and dig a little deeper before deigning to pass judgement. This is a lesson for life, not just this particular situation. Ours is not so that we don't question. We should not only question, but we should be sure to ask the right questions. Had we done so, perhaps the reign of Albus Dumbledore would not have been anywhere near as long as it was. But make no mistake, it was people asking the right questions that did finally end the reign of the wizard who be the Master of Death. We are finally learning. We are truly evolving, and future is starting to look pretty positive for a change."_

_The future is indeed looking much brighter for Gellert Grindelwald, and the Ministry of Magic is asking people who suspect that something isn't right with their family history, such as the mysterious disappearance of relatives or people who abruptly underwent radical changes in personality to report the situation to the Ministry's Department of Mysteries to be examined for certain telltale effects of time-tampering. All family research requests will be handled confidentially as they come in. Any family or individuals who may have had regular or extensive relations with Albus Dumbledore are encouraged to come in for a checkup for evidence of mind-manipulation and temporal displacement syndrome._

"_We understand that people people believed Albus Dumbledore to be the friend of the people— a wizard above all wizards," Piers Tarquin said. "Betrayal is never an easy thing to accept. Please, I beg of you, if you had any kind of personal or working relationship with Albus Dumbledore to come and get yourself checked out."_

_We here at the Prophet, having our readers' best interests always at heart, would also like to urge those of you who had substantial or unusual contact with Albus Dumbledore to please present yourselves to Department of Mysteries for your own peace of mind, if nothing else. The examination, we are told, is quick, simple, and entirely painless. And if there should be any anomalies found warranting further investigation, well, far better to know now than later when unforeseen problems might crop up is our take on this._

_Aberforth Dumbledore, one of the latest rehabilitated victims of Albus Dumbledore stated, "He was my own brother. He manipulated me. He ensorcelled me to feel an unnatural love for— If he wasn't already in a coma, I'd wring his scrawny neck myself. If he can do that to me, a family member, then he wouldn't bat an eyelash to do it to anyone else. Remember that, if you erroneously believe you're defending 'a great man's honour.' Albus' acts of callousness and cruelty have proven to me that he never had any honour or scruples at all. If anything, he was driven to heinous acts of cruelty on his quest to obtain ultimate power at all costs. That's not about honour, that's about plain old selfishness. Go get yourself checked. If not for you, do it for your kids. If you don't have kids, do it for your neighbours, your friends, your familiars… for the good of the magical world. You don't want to be the cause of the next Dark Lord rising because of something he did to you that you don't even remember, do you?"_

_A rather frightening but quite a sobering point, don't you agree?_


	50. Chapter 50 - The Epilogue

**A/N:** Inspiration is hard. Just saying.

**Beta Love:** The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, and the flyby Commander Shepherd

* * *

**One Step Forward, Two Decades Back**

**Chapter 50**

Fall 1978–Spring 1979 —Catbirds Take Hogwarts

_I love to think that animals and humans and plants and fishes and trees and stars and the moon are all connected. - Gloria Vanderbilt_

"Ow!"

"Miss Aenders," Hermione said calmly. "What did I ask everyone _not _to do?"

The little witch cradled her hand where Twister had nailed her with his beak. The phoenix was dutifully proxy incubating, happily turning the eggs in the commandeered yarn basket that had become the traveling nest.

Regulus had joked that the chicks were going to hatch the same colour as the yarns, but Hermione had promptly pecked him between the eyes, sending him packing. Her little brother complained that fruit-eating birds shouldn't have such cruel beaks just before Severus had chased him out of the nesting area, pecking him repeatedly on the rump and buffeting him with his wings.

"Look, but don't touch," Aenders whined pitifully.

"Following instructions is very important. If you cannot follow simple requests, how can I trust you not to poke out each other's eyes with your wands?" Hermione asked.

A few of the students hung their heads as Aenders returned to her desk.

A bright purple phoenix, one of the refugee rescues from the Time Room, flew in from the courtyard and nestled up against Twister. She preened Twister fastidiously and then nestled up against him, sharing the basket with him.

"Awwwww," the class chimed together.

Hermione arched a brow. "Tell you what. If, and only if, you can all successfully transfigure your teapots into tortoises and back, we will spend some time before the end of class watching the phoenixes. But all of you have to succeed, so if you see your classmates struggling, what does that mean?"

"Help them!" the class chimed together.

"Yes, and if you aren't sure, what do you do?"

"Ask for help!"

"Exactly," Hermione replied with a nod. "Go to it."

Hermione paced up and down the aisles watching the goings on in the classroom with a critical eye. She corrected posture, ennunciation, and wand movements. Sagacity did his part by flying from desk to desk and alerting her whenever things were going pear-shaped.

Sagacity hooted his commentary as he went from desk to desk, his claws clicking as he shuffled in a distinctively owlish manner. At one point, an accidental misaim caused Sagacity's tail feather to shimmer and turn into rather stunning peacock's tail. The elder owl hooted loudly at the offending student, giving him a glare worthy of Severus himself.

Hermione chuckled, transferring the rather disgruntled owl to her shoulder. She ran her hand over the peacock tail and set it back to rights, and the owl snuggled up to her hair, hooting with unmistakable relief. She soothed his head and the back of his neck where he liked it the most, smiling as he radiated pure gratitude.

"We should go for a nice fly, hrm?" she asked the elder owl.

Sagacity hooted happily in agreement.

The class was not perfect, Hermione noticed, but she did not expect them to be. They were not first years, but focus was something that often took the same turn: reward the work for something positive. Third year students were notorious for being on the cusp of the hormonal minefield of adolescence when their brains and bodies were chock full of hormones and conflicting desires that had nothing to do with studying. Merlin knew her own twin brother had been the ultimate example of hormones over brains on far too many occasions. There were quite a few people who had hoped that his being with Evelyn would temper out his prankish mischief and libido, but apparently he had corrupted _her_ instead, much to their Lord Father's discomfiture and their Lady mother's utter mortification.

The couple's nuptial crime spree and incarceration in the pound had not been easily brushed under a rug. Every family dinner since had both Sirius and Evelyn under the table with their tails between their legs. The only redemption they found was in the assisting the shelter with funds to expand and hire more staff, start education and exposure events, and get a lot of sadly forgotten animals their forever homes. Evelyn had even worked on outreach programs to match up the older animals with elderly Muggles who either lived alone by choice or had lost their life partner. While it didn't help the Wizarding world directly, it did help out their Muggle neighbours, and that made Lady Black less apt to knock her eldest son's head against the dining room table for such "deplorable behaviour."

An hour passed, and Hermione was happy to see teamwork and questioning as the norm rather than the thinly-veiled antagonism she knew was prevalent in the time stream she remembered all too clearly. She had to smile a little, even knowing that the time stream in question would forever be missing Hermione Jean Granger. That Hermione had met her end at the end of Ronald Weasley's drunken curse, but it had also been the beginning of something far greater. Her "death" had been the beginning of the end to the machinations of one power-hungry Albus Dumbledore—at this version of Dumbledore who had stopped at nothing to aid his own selfish ends. Even the Dumbledore of her original timeline would have been scraping his bearded jaw off the ground had he ever seen the open cooperation between Slytherin and Gryffindor students that was happening before her right now.

"Time's up, everyone," Hermione announced.

"Awww," the class moaned, knowing they hadn't achieved their goal of transfiguring all of the teapots into tortoises. A few tortoises had floral prints and others were issuing steam from their nostrils. A few tea pots were crawling around on stubby tortoise legs looking decidedly less than successful. One teapot had sprouted wings of two different species of bird and was attempting to sing to itself in the large mirror in the back of the room, much to the chagrin of Miss Dalton.

Mr Derricks had accidently turned Miss Cullen's _head _into a teapot tortoise—or rather had fused the teapot tortoise to her head. Hermione wasn't sure what precisely had happened there, but she suspected a little accidental magic had flared up due to some simmering frustrations. It was nothing a _finite incantatem _couldn't fix, but she had Derricks take Cullen back to the hospital wing to make sure there weren't some other unfortunate transformative problems going on.

The rest of the class seemed rather saddened that they had not successfully reached their objective, so they would be unable to spend time cooing over the phoenix eggs, but Hermione's secret goal had been reached nonetheless. For the most part, everyone had been actively _trying_, and there had been a spirit of cooperation between the rival houses.

"Alright, class," Hermione said with a smile. "Clean up your spaces and you can gather around Twister here as he tends the eggs. Don't crowd him or he will peck you to remind you to keep your distance. His purple phoenix friend is named Lupin, but probably not for the reason you might think. Can anyone guess?"

"Is she Professor Lupin's phoenix?"

"Guess again."

"Does she like wolves?"

"Yes, but that's not the reason. Try again."

A girl in the back waved her hand crazily, making Hermione remember a time when that had been her. "Yes, Miss Cooper?"

"Is it because she looks like the flower? The lupine?"

"Good guess, Miss Cooper. Close enough. The truth is that she likes to sleep in the lupines in the garden that Assistant Professor Moody has around her cottage. Every morning when she was out weeding the garden, she would always find a certain phoenix in her flower bed, so she named her Lupin."

The children burst into giggles.

"Professor Snape," a petite witch at the front asked. "Erm, if those are your eggs, why are other phoenixes sitting on the nest?"

Hermione smiled. "The advantage of being a phoenix is that you never have a shortage of volunteer help. A phoenix is very social, and the bonds between them are very strong. Family is not determined by blood. The family units will take turns tending the eggs once they are strong enough to be put in a nest."

A group of hands raised.

"Yes, Mr Knight?"

"Where are the eggs before they go into the nest?"

Hermione's lips curved upward. "The male phoenix has a special pouch where he stores the immature eggs. He swallows the eggs and keeps them with him until the shells harden and they grow to a certain size. Usually that is about the size of a medium chicken egg."

Another hand was raised.

"Yes Miss Green?"

"How big will they get?"

"Ever seen a swan egg?" Hermione asked. "That would be a good approximation."

The children chattered excitedly. "I've seen those in London!"

Hermione nodded. "Now, it's important to know that most phoenixes are very protective of their eggs. The reason they are more at ease at Hogwarts is because there are other established phoenixes here. Does anyone know what a group of phoenixes are called?"

More hands waved excitedly.

"You were first, Mr Collins," Hermione chuckled.

"An orchard!" he announced proudly.

"Very good," Hermione approved. "Five points to Slytherin. Now, for extra points, who knows what type of animal a wild phoenix will nest by if at all possible?"

Murmurs went through the class. After a long debate a few hands rose.

"Yes, Miss Owens?"

"An Augurey ?" she answered timidly.

"That is a good guess, but that is incorrect," Hermione said kindly. "They do share a similar habitat preference. If you want to save your honour, however, can you tell me what an Augurey eats?"

"Insects and fairies!" Owens said immediately.

"Very good, Miss Owens. Five points to Gryffindor," Hermione said with a smile.

"Now, to the open floor, I ask: What magical animal does the phoenix prefer to nest by?"

Silence, muttering, and a frantic desire for the extra points warred with the challenge. Hermione used the time to check on her eggs, gently turning them from under Twister and Lupin the phoenix. Merlin knew that conversation would be strange when it regarded Lupin the werewolf vs. Lupin the phoenix. Twister warbled happily, dutifully keeping the eggs warm, sharing half the nesting basket with Lupin.

The eggs had grown significantly in a short amount of time, especially in comparison to Fawkes' original nest, but part of Hermione knew it was because the circumstances of his original clutch of eggs had not been remotely ideal. Their shells were a dark golden colour, speckled with lighter splotches. Each egg pulsed with multiple beats: the heart, the magic, and the time streams. As it matured, the beats were slowly synchronising and becoming one with the growing chick inside the shell. Thanks to Severus and the other male phoenixes, each egg would be well-saturated in the time streams. Thanks to Hermione and the other female phoenixes, each chick would be born with with a basic blueprint of their legacy. The entire process was as complex as it was beautiful, and Hermione found herself grateful for it. It had saved her life in the end—both hers and Severus'. It had given her a family unlike anything she had ever believed possible as Hermione Granger. Perhaps, even more importantly, it had given a life back to other Hermione's across time.

Hermione tilted her head. No, it had been more than just her that had been given back life. There were quite a few timelines that would be much better off now that a certain time-meddler wasn't there to push things in the direction he wanted. Were all the Albus Dumbledores self-serving and determined to achieve the greater good to maintain a world for Ariana Dumbledore? No. Some of them were decidedly worse. Fortunately, they were worse in ways that didn't involve time-travel, and that was the only thing ranking them below the Dumbledore locked away in the Department of Mysteries. Their destruction was—contained. Some of them had, ironically, been taken out by the time-travelling Albus—drained of their knowledge and disposed of. Alas, Hermione knew that power abhorred a vacuum.

Still, there was little that could be done that wasn't already being done. The time refugees were being cared for. The dead were unfortunate victims, but the timelines were sealed shut. Gellert had been the only one who had been altered so dramatically that he had required phoenix healing to restore what had been unnaturally stolen from him. Sadly, while they could restore to him what had been stolen from him due to the time travel, they couldn't give him back the time he had lost being incarcerated. Gellert seemed satisfied that he looked old enough to be respectable and young enough to not look like some dodgy older wizard who took potshots at starlings with his wand to scare them off his lawn.

Her mind projected a vivid image of Sirius in his old age, sitting on his porch in a rocking chair, yelling at young kids to get the bleedin' hell off his front lawn. She had to choke back a snort and cover her eyes to keep from showing her entire class that she was rolling them.

A waving hand shook her out of her brain's oddball musings, and she made a note to wing buffet her twin purely out of principle the very next time she saw him. "Yes, Miss Sutton?"

"A chimaera?" she answered meekly.

Hermione smiled. "Five extra points to Gryffindor," she said with a nod of approval. "Okay, now each of you have the opportunity to win a few extra points for your houses. First, you have to bring in your finished homework, or no extra points will be given. Second, however, you can earn an extra point for each person in the class who brings me in a signed parchment that you helped Mr Filch out with some task that needed to be done. Now, if you're lucky," she continued, wiggling the carrot, "you may be able to spend some time with Bubbles and Mrs Norris."

The children looked extra excited at that.

"Now, _what _was the assignment?" Hermione asked, arching a brow. "Yes, Mr Barton?"

"One foot of parchment on practical applications for the hedgehog to pincushion spell," Barton replied confidently.

Hermione nodded. "Good memory, Mr Barton. You've just earned Slytherin five points. Good job, everyone. Clean up anything you left behind, and you may leave when the bell rings."

Not surprisingly, none of them were in a particular hurry to leave when the bell rang. Hermione shuffled them out the door, telling them the phoenixes weren't going anywhere. She hushed a few protests and encouraged them to get going to their next class.

Hermione watched the last of the students leave, picked up her portable nest, transferred Lupin to her shoulder, and carried them all with her as she closed up the classroom.

* * *

_**Tragic Incident Beaches Whales off Western Coast of Scotland**_

_A large pod of Minke whales beached themselves on the west coast of Scotland near Kilchoman, Islay. Hundreds of volunteers arrived wanting to help the whales, both Muggle and Wizarding folk alike. Due to the Statute of Secrecy, the groups had to split up. _

_Thanks to levitation spells, half of the pod was able to be saved without incident or casualties, but the Muggle side of the beach was sadly laden in dead whales due to the massive size differences. Some of the smaller whales were saved, but the larger ones, which incidentally were beached in the furthest, simply could not be saved. By the time the Wizarding folk transfigured their clothes and surreptitiously attempted to lighten the load, twelve more whales were saved, but unfortunately twelve others had been lost._

_Thanks to some swift negotiations with the Muggle authorities and the Auror-Animagus teams, nothing went to waste. Whales were distributed to the the small villages that commonly struggle with storing enough food for winter all the way to the northwest coast of the United States to some of the First Nations villages that have long protected the Wizarding secrets. Thanks to the size of the whales, one whale easily provided enough to feed an entire village all through the winter's hard times, and the exhausted Auror-Animagus teams worked well into the night and through multiple time zones to deliver the gift of food to each village. _

_Sadly, some of the help for the whales unfortunately came too late, and some of the exhausted whales did not make it even after being moved back to deep water, re-beaching themselves even while efforts were still going strong to move the accidental whale victims to places in need. Thankfully, nothing went to waste, and while the tragedy of such a mass beaching was both emotional and heart-wrenching, there was a mood of thankfulness that there are many villages that will not be suffering from hunger this winter._

_After almost an entire day's effort between both Muggle and Wizarding volunteers, the surviving whales are seemed to linger off the coast before disappearing into the deeper sea. This was teamwork in action. We are very lucky to have such a wonderful group of people willing to make things work even within the rules of the Statute of Secrecy. _

* * *

**Saturday, October 14th, 1978 —Waning Gibbous 97%**

The Dark Forest was bustling with activity as two herds of centaur joined together in a rare joint effort to process what may have been the Dark Forest Herd's first baleen whale. The two herds were busily cutting, scraping, smoking, curing, and everything in between. The foals were helping by stringing out the meat to smoke and cure, the mares were cutting the larger pieces into more manageable ones, and the stallions were cutting the larger pieces as well as collecting and sorting the bones into piles of size and function.

Regulus was helping heave the pieces up and away, using his bear mass and strength to assist. Orion was making everything look far too easy as he assisted the visiting herd with hauling and cutting their share of the meat into manageable pieces using his great strength and stiletto claws. Severus was helping haul and move, and Remus was dutifully keeping a lookout over the foals as they worked, allowing their dams to tend to other things without worrying. Alastor

A great orchard of phoenixes had descended to offer their assistance as well, and while they preferred the diet of fruits over meat, they had no issues with helping out their friends and allies. Hermione, Hope, Evelyn, Honey, and the mares were teaming up together to scrape and tan the hide once they transferred the meat duty to the foals.

Sirius was kept quite busy carting the meat, larger pieces of skin, and bones via a sled hooked up to a makeshift dog harness. There were a few times when he misjudged the size of himself versus the size of the sled and got himself stuck between two trees, much to his embarrassment. To add more shame to his experience, the foals helped him free himself from the tangle, but in his haste to prove he was able to do it himself, he misjudged the yank. He, the sled, the hides, and a pile of meat went shooting out from the trees like a slingshot, tumbled head over heels into a bramble, and then rolled down the hillside. Sirius landed first, the sled him him next, and the goods piled on top of him as the grand finale.

About twenty foals stared down in disbelief at the heaping pile of _wrong_, unsure about what they should do first—assist or stare. They settled on stare. Even the newest foals, which had arrived at the end of summer, stared, nickered, and made silly noises as they watched a certain dog Animagus vainly attempting to extricate himself from his latest snafu of the day.

Evelyn, apparently not to be outdone by her accident-prone mate, managed to get tangled up in a net of drying whale intestine only to land face-first into a pile of collected ambergris, much to the horror of the watching mares. The elder mare made strange sounds that might have been laughter or pain, telling one of the older foals to "take her down to the lake we don't drink from and make sure all of it is washed off." Evelyn returned, very wet and very embarrassed, meekly sitting down to resume chore duty with the rest of the mares.

"Clumsiness is a sign of multiples," one of the visiting mares said, chuckling. "Perhaps you shall have triplets or more."

"She _is _a canine, Safflower," another mare pointed out. "Perhaps she has a litter due."

"I couldn't imagine that," Safflower replied with a slight shudder. "One foal is quite enough to birth. Remember Rainfoot? She had twin foals the year when the rains were common. Poor dear was practically nothing but skin and bone come springtime. Those babies completely sucked the life out of her."

Evelyn was growing steadily paler as the conversation continued.

"She was so relieved when she finally had them," another mare recalled. "Her belly was practically on the ground just before she foaled. The poor dear."

The other mares nickered in agreement.

"Ah, we have been so blessed this year. This winter we shall eat very well. We have new leather for our harnesses, oil, and peace of mind. Our stallions will not be as hard pressed to hunt even in the freezing snows. This is truly a gift from Chiron himself."

Nickers filled the grove with agreement.

"I do not wish to question this gift at all, but how did all this come to be?" one of the visiting mares asked.

"Our human herd-mates have long since proven themselves in looking out for us," a dark blue roan replied. "They were helping move a pod of beached whales on the coast. They saved many, but there were some that could not be saved. They did transport the remains to various human villages in need, but what most humans do not know is that some of them went to help feed the herds."

"One went to the dragon reserve in Romania," Hermione added. "It won't feed quite so many dragons as it will centaur, but it saves them from having to sacrifice their herds this winter to feed their dragons."

"I am glad we do not have such creatures here in our forest," a dappled grey mare said. "There is danger enough without having our foals snapped up by dragons."

A few of the mares stared at Evelyn's protruding abdomen rather curiously.

"When are you due?" a younger mare asked.

"Spring," Evelyn replied with a smile. "Should be sometime in early April."

"Spring babies are quite lucky," Honey commented, "Except when they come out during a thunderstorm on a Tuesday. Mum used to say it did something horrible to your sense of balance if a spring baby came on a Monday, but Tuesday was definitely worse. I don't recall why though—Oh! Right. Babies born then supposedly have a tendency to eat dirt and chase garden gnomes around like a dog. Mum said I was born on a Saturday, which was much preferred."

The mares nickered their approval.

Evelyn, in the meantime, looked as though she were adding yet one more thing to the ever-growing list of things she needed to be wary of when having children.

In the span of the day, about twenty different phoenixes had arrived and exchanged places with the phoenix in Hermione's portable yarn nesting basket, and Evelyn was looking at the nest a bit longingly as if to ponder why _she _couldn't be so lucky. Minerva McGonagall-Barberry had clearly managed to figure it out too. So why couldn't _she_?

A nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she had stolen a hogshead of wine as her mate had run off with an entire prime rib, they had stuffed themselves silly, spilt wine and food over the feet of Pan's statue, and then proceeded to fornicate in the water fountain in a drunken canine stupor. Evelyn swallowed hard. She was hardly the perfect example of ideal Auror behaviour, and Sirius would definitely _not _be winning that contest any time soon either. It had only been Sirius anonymously sending money to cover the cost of both things they had stolen twice over that had saved his bacon from Alastor Moody and the formidable wrath of the House of Black. As it was, Evelyn's master, Bianca, had chewed her up one side and down the other in about three other languages on top of the usual Dutch, leaving her with no question that if she ever did anything that shameful again, she would personally spay her… the _Muggle _way. And without painkillers of any kind, Muggle or otherwise.

Evelyn knew she would do it too, and on that day all the anesthetic would have somehow gone mysteriously missing. Mind you, she would wait until Evelyn had her children, to make sure they were healthy and getting enough milk, and then she would drag her under without any mercy whatsoever. Merlin help her if Sirius even _tried _to be intimate with his mate after the babies showed up. Evelyn paled a little more and mentally buried herself in the leaf litter. She dearly loved her mate; there was no question about that. However, that being said, they were truly each other's enabler into the realm of canine mischief and mayhem. If Karma existed and was keeping tally, she dreaded if—or rather when—she would have to pay up. Then again, if her oddball cravings were any indicator, she had a feeling she was already paying up, one step at a time.

There was a bunch of excited squealing from the younger foals as they played "put your head in the chimaera's mouth." Orion was pretending to devour each foal and then released them, causing them to squeal with delight and throw themselves in again. The mares nickered to each other in amusement. After each foal took turns being the "victim," Orion shooed them off to finish their chores. The foals pouted and protested, but they did as directed. Orion, once again, proved he was the ultimate father, regardless of species.

Fatherly duties aside, Orion had solved the perplexing mystery of what had been making the giant squid so cranky. Someone or some_thing _had managed to kill off most of the fish and plant life in the Black Lake. Moody had a few magi-botanists coming out to take samples from the lake in an attempt to determine _why_. In the meantime, the mer-folk were, understandably, pissed off and hungry as well, and they had gotten desperate enough to attempt to attack the giant squid for food. The squid, also understandably, didn't much appreciate that.

So, since they had an entire whale on hand, some of the extra meat went into providing for the mer-folk to keep them from attacking the squid, which kept the cranky squid from attacking—well, _everything_.

Severus had the suspicion that someone had dumped their failed potion experiments into the lake rather than vanish them, but why they would do something that obviously took more effort than a well cast vanishing spell was beyond him. Anyone who hadn't passed their O.W.L.s weren't allowed to brew without supervision, which left one with the sneaking suspicion that one of the older students had been tinkering around with some sort of experiment off the books. Just what that experiment was, however, would only be known when the analysis came back.

The Magi-botanists and the Magi-zoologists were both teaming up to bring the Black Lake back into balance, including restocking and reseeding the lake back to its natural state, but the word was that it was _still _going to take some time. Thankfully, the mer-folk seemed to be immune to whatever was happening to the squid and killing off the fish. In fact, they seemed to be even more helpful and willing to cooperate than usual. Regardless, the experts would eventually come back with results, and everyone was glad that they could worry about lake ecology instead of more traumatic things like whether their children were going to die at the hands of Dark Lord and his minions of evil, or a wannabe time lord, Lord of the Fiendish Clucking Chicken, or whatever other sort of rising lord of perpetual nightmares the universe kept coming up with now and again.

A tiny gold-coloured foal was fussing with Hope's hair, and Hope looked as though she was going to cry. She hugged the foal close, earning herself a happy nicker.

"Marigold, she's going to want to foal-nap you," the cream-coloured mare nickered with amusement.

Marigold seemed to thoroughly approve of that idea, clinging to Hope like a tanglevine.

"Awww," Hope fussed. "I love you much!" she told the tiny golden filly.

"You'll have your own soon," the cream-mare chuckled. "Humans take less time than centaurs. Only nine months."

"Only?" Hope sighed. "It feels like forever, Foxglove."

"Try carrying your babe for a year," Foxglove suggested.

"Ah, no thanks," Hope replied, waving her hands.

Acer bounded back into the clearing with a whale bone shared between all three heads. He flopped down with the female gathering and gnawed noisily as he cleaned the remaining meat off the bone.

"Someone seems pretty happy," a rust-coloured mare mused.

"It doesn't take much to please you, does it, Acer?" Hope praised the three-headed canine.

Acer's tail beat against the ground enthusiastically as he chewed away.

"You have such a way with the young ones, Hope," a red roan mare commented. "I think they are taking bets on if they can find a way to sneak home with you."

Hope blushed. "It feels so _good _to finally see the other side of the world. Lyall, when we first met, said it really wasn't all that special and it was better that I didn't dwell on it. I feel so incredibly fortunate to finally be here and experience the wonder of the magical world for myself."

"Ah, I think we have finished!" Gilford cheered, clapping Minerva on the back. Row after row of long branches hung between the trees. Each branch had been painstakingly lashed together to form a drying frame made of natural materials. Line after line of seasoned and drying whale meat hung in the open air, the natural breeze kicking up from the lake serving to accelerate the process.

"Ah, well done everyone!" Meliton praised. "Our herds shall eat well this winter thanks to everyone's hard work."

A grand cheer went up, and the feasting began to celebrate the time of plenty and the future, which was looking very bright indeed.

* * *

**Saturday, April 14th, 1979 —Waning Gibbous 96%**

_Peep. Peep. Peeppeeppeep! Mew._

_Peep._

_Mewchirp._

_Peep, peep, peep!_

_Mew!_

Hermione and Minerva adjusted themselves over the yarn basket as noisy little offspring attempted to peck and claw their way out of the eggshells. Tawny spotted eggs cracked as little egg teeth smashed their way through the shells. Little paws thrust out of the holes and worked the shells clear so small, mewling kittens tumbled out, their tiny, naked wings damp and flopping about.

Meanwhile, the phoenix chicks made it all look mighty professional as they cracked their shells and then spontaneously combusted, bursting free in a blaze of glory and fluffy down. The phoenix chicks warbled and opened their little beaks for food, starving from their effort to free themselves from their eggshell prisons. Phoenixes gathered around and stuffed fruit into each maw as Minerva lay on her side and allowed her little catbird kittens to take their first meal. They squirmed and batted each other in the face with their paws as they attempted to claim a teat for their own purposes, making tiny mewling and chirping sounds until they found what they were looking for and latched on hungrily.

Gilford puffed up his feathers and sang proudly over his brood of mutant kitten-chicks, and Severus and the phoenix crew dutifully stuffed all the newly-hatched chicks full of mashed fruit until their bellies were properly swollen with food.

Severus nuzzled his mate, warbling, and Hermione chirred happily, glad that their egg-vigil was finally over. Chicks of multiple colours lay within the next, but there were a few that screamed the ebony black of Severus and the honey sienna of Hermione. Severus eyed the fluffy platinum blond chick with suspicion, perhaps wondering if Hermione had found a side-lover somewhere. The little chick yawned beakily, staring up at Severus with total adoration.

Suspicious, but willing to accept that the chances that Lucius had somehow mated with his wife while he wasn't looking was next to impossible, he preened the blond-fluff chick and stuffed a ripe fig in his mouth.

Minerva was half-asleep, having given all of her little mutants a thorough grooming. The little fluffballs were snoring away, kneading her fur with their tiny paws. Sirius and Regulus looked on almost jealously, having already experienced what it was like to have a pregnant mate of the normal kind. Assuming such a thing even existed.

"It would have been so much easier if Evelyn could've just laid a nest of eggs," Sirius pouted.

"I dread to think of what she would lay, brother," Regulus said. "With our family, she could lay a giant thunderbird egg and it would shock everyone with bolts of lightning."

Sirius's eyes went wide. "With my luck it would be a rain bird, and we'd live in a perpetually wet house until they grew up."

"Could always move to the desert," Regulus suggested. "Or travel the world and end drought wherever you might find it."

Sirius shook his head. "Do you _always _have to make weird things into benefits?"

"I'm a Slytherin, brother," Regulus chided. "Everything has to be made into something useful. Just think of the joy you could bring Ethiopia."

Sirius sighed. "I don't _want _to live in Ethiopia."

"With enough rain, you might change your mind."

Sirius facepalmed. "Why aren't you paranoid as to what your first-born is going to be?"

"Look at Minerva, she wasn't scared or surprised that her pairing with Gilford gave her unique magical offspring," Regulus said with a shrug. "I used to be scared, but then I realised it was the family magic that gave us our beloved sister. Why should I be scared of _that_?"

Sirius frowned. "We can't all be as accepting as our Lord Father."

"Perhaps we should be," Regulus chuckled. "Look how well it turned out. Well, except for you. You're a right ruddy cock-up."

Sirius chased his brother out of the room, roaring at the top of his lungs.

Orion shook his head at his sons' antics and moved his hands into the large yarn basket-nest, and pulled out each chick, carefully looking them over. Each one looked up at him adoringly, singing their first happy songs of love, and he smiled at them, kissing them gently on the beak before putting them back under their proud mum. Walburga, too, looked each chick over, checking wings and tails to see if all was in order before nestling them back. Orion didn't stop with the phoenix chicks, and picked up the little squirming and mewing kitten-chicks, and they stared at him with wonder, their paws thumping against Orion's face with silent awe.

"You have a glorious little nest," Orion cooed, running his hands over both his daughter and Minerva. Both Hermione and Minerva thunked their heads against his warm hands. "You must be so proud."

Minerva meowed, and Hermione chirped with pleasure.

"You made a father proud, my daughter," Orion said with a smile. "So is your mother, though she is trying very hard to not show it."

Walburga sputtered.

Severus warbled a happy song, echoed by all the other gathered phoenixes as the entire estate was filled with joy.

Meanwhile, every kitten-chick had managed to crawl into Walburga's lap and fall instantly asleep.

Minerva looked on the scene with clear amusement before wearily closing her eyes.

* * *

**Sunday, June 10th, 1979 —Full Moon 100%**

Yip! Yip! Yaaarrrrooooo!

Baroooo!

Whine-rooo!

Yip. Yip.

Roo!

Roo!

Aroo!

"Merlin! Let me in there!" Sirius said, trying to crawl into the den, but Tuft and Moody were in no mood to entertain. They pulled their lips back and growled deeply.

"Damnit! My wife is in there!"

Rrrrrrrrrrr.

RrrRRRRRRR!

"You might as well give up, brother," Regulus chuckled. It's not going to happen. "They won't even let _me _in. Do you really want to argue with them?"

"They let _**father **_in!"

Regulus gave Sirius a look.

"What? They did!"

Regulus shook his head. "Since when does our Lord Father ever get denied anywhere? Other than perhaps the ladies' washroom?"

Sirius' jaw dropped slightly, and then he sighed. "Point."

There was rustling as two phoenixes landed nearby, spreading their wings as a clutch of baby phoenix chicks and kitten-chicks tumbled out from beneath them as the black phoenix loosed a silver tabby cat. All of them stared at the two wolf-guards, and then they slipped between the wolf's legs, the little chicks and kitten-chicks following in hurried line of obnoxious rainbow cuteness.

Gilford landed between Sirius' ears and sang Mozart's Requiem for the Dead.

"Oh, so Severus gets to go in too," Sirius pouted, never happy.

"Quit your bellyaching, brother," Regulus muttered. "Soon enough, you'll be up to your eyeballs in—whatever it is you're having, and you'll be crying for the free time you have now."

Sirius sighed. "It's not so bizarre for a father to want to see his children being born. Father was there for us."

"Our Lady Mother didn't dig herself a den," Regulus pointed out.

Sirius crossed his arms across his body. "Hmph."

Gilford abruptly nailed Sirius on top of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Being such an insufferable whiner," Regulus muttered.

"Great, reprimanded by a tiny English robin."

Regulus towered over him as a giant bear and proceeded to hug-maul his brother unmercifully.

Not long after, Sirius' muffled groans were suppressed even more by about three hundred kilos of disgruntled grizzly bear.

* * *

"Congratulations you old wolf," James said, patting Remus on the back. "Looks like you have some fine-looking wolf pups."

Two brown wolf pups tussled with two dirty blond wolf pups. They squirmed and yipped and occasionally howled—or tried to at least. Remus smiled proudly, with tears in his eyes. "Hey, two of those aren't mine."

"Could have fooled me!" James laughed. "Look at them. You sure Tala didn't have them all?"

"No, no," Remus said. "The blond ones are Alastor's little darlings."

Yip! Yip!

Yip!YIPyipYIP! RRRRRRRYip!

"Oh, Merlin, for the love of—"

A loud thud from the next room caused Remus and James to look toward the next room.

A pack of tiny messy-almost-spiky furred puppies came bounding into the room, trailing sulfurous pawprints. Their glowing red eyes seemed to brighten as they spied the wolf pups, and they met in the middle of the room with a flurry of happy barks and yips and yowls.

"Those are _definitely _not mine," Remus said, waving his hands. "And they're not Moody's either."

James laughed. "That lot must belong to Sirius'." He chortled and laughed even harder. "I heard he spent the first month banished to the settee thanks to not recognising his very own spawn."

"Evelyn didn't let him live that down—" Remus said, averting his eyes to look at the pups. "The puppies walk all over _him _but they're furry little angels with everyone else."

A little black sulfurous puppy was enthusiastically gnawing on James' boot heel.

Hrroorororowl!

James scooped the little guy up and his face instantly melted. "Awww. You stink like the sulfur pits of Hades, oh yes you do!"

"Hrrl! rrrRRrrr!" the pup exclaimed, tail wagging like mad and licking James' face.

"Can you speak?"

"ROWR!"

"Sit?"

The promptly pup sat down.

"You are so adorable!" James blurted, kissing the little pup on the head.

Sirius staggered in from the other room his front and back side covered in muddy puppy prints. "Have you seen my hellspawn?" He fell face-first on the carpet.

All the little pups ran up and hiked their legs, piddling on Sirius, scratching the rug with their hind legs, and trotting back over to socialise with the wolf pups, save for the one in James' hands, which was far too interested in licking his jaw.

"That explains why Sirius always smells like—piss." James said rather dryly.

Alastor walked up, grinning down at the obviously-exhausted Sirius. "Might want to take that one out and hose him down. He positively reeks."

"Hey, Alastor? How is Hope?"

"Ach, she couldn't be happier," Alastor answered. "She's so happy that she has wolf pups for kids—I—I couldn't have asked for a more loving and understanding wife. She's a bit sad that she won't be able to go out in public with them until they start looking passably human, but Orion says that might take about a month or two."

"Yeah, we're magical in the Wizarding world, but even wizards have quite a few problems with giving birth to wolf pups," James said. "Can't really imagine why."

Remus snorted. "Orion also took his daughter with him to the Wizengamot with her sleeping in his pocket. He told me the story."

"Orion can get away just about anything, but if you go in public with an adorable little lintball, no one's going, 'Oh, hey, that's a beautiful daughter you have there'." James grinned.

"You seem to forget," Remus pointed out, "Orion could get away with bringing a bloody hippogriff to the Wizengamot and calling it Walburga, and no one would dare to question him—at least out loud."

James scratched his head. "True." The little pup in his hands playfully nipped his fingers. "Hey, ow! No biting, young man!"

The pup whined and lowered his head.

"How do you tell which one this is—" James stared at the little pup and got a thorough slurping for his efforts. "Argh!"

"That one is Aries," Remus said. "He smells like war."

James gave him a look. "What exactly does war smell like."

"Aries."

"Sirius named his son Aries after the God of War?"

"No," Alastor said. "Evelyn named them all after banishing Sirius to the settee for a month. That one is Aries Ludolf. That one trying to chew on the table leg is Skylar Gerben. The two sleeping in the basket with the wolf pups are Anika Carolien and Femke Gisela."

Remus and James stared at Moody.

"What?" Alastor snapped. "I pay attention during namings! That and Sirius screams their names all the time, but it falls on deaf ears."

"Okay. Now _THAT_ makes more sense," Remus said with a wink.

"Personally, I think that they smell his fear and they figure if he can't pronounce their names correctly, they don't have to answer him," Moody said with a shrug. "You don't see Heather Annabel or Hugh Alastor displaying such miscreant behaviour."

"They are only a few weeks old, Alastor," Remus snickered. "You can't possibly expect them to be well behaved this early. Merlin knows our Tasha and Randall barely recognise their names."

Alastor grunted. "You think that, but it's not true. You just _think _they don't know their names. Want proof?"

Remus arched a brow and gestured for him to go ahead.

Moody waved his wand and sent his wolf Patronus zinging out the door.

"Randall! Tasha! I've got a brush here with your name on it!" came Hermione's voice.

Two brown wolf pups immediately popped their heads up from the basket and whimpered and yipped as they crawled out, fell over each other, and scrambled out the door in a hurry, taking part of the rug with them. Hugh and Heather, not wanting to be left out, frantically followed their fellow pups, tearing out the door as fast as their little legs could carry them. They made sure to trample Sirius as they went, even when the clearer path was much shorter.

"Fuck me," Sirius groaned.

"Watch that mouth of yours, Black," Moody growled. "There are children present."

The four hellhound pups suddenly seemed to realise they had just been abandoned, and they tore off after their furry compatriots, tracking muddy, sulfurous pawprints all over their father as they dashed from the room.

James and Remus burst out laughing and Moody was grinning from ear-to-ear. "You're pathetic, Black. Gilford has them all behaving themselves, and he's a sodding tiny songbird."

"Just you wait, James," Sirius hissed. "When Lily finally pops, you're going to be eating your laughter, mark my words."

"Meanwhile, I shall feed on your tears of misery, mate," James said with a mock courtly bow.

_Flash_.

"And this picture is going on the bulletin board in the teacher's lounge."

"I'm going to tear you apart, Potter!"

"You have to catch me first, Black, and right now you look like a bunny rabbit could take you on and make you cry 'Uncle'."

"I hate you all."

* * *

**Tuesday, July 31st, 1979 —First Quarter 43%**

"Damn, James," Sirius said, whistling. "What the hell happened to your face?"

"This happened," James said, proudly holding his latest bundle of joy. "Harry James Potter. He kicked me in the face the first time I picked him up. He gave Lily a black eye too."

"Damn," Sirius boggled.

"Awww," Hermione cooed, holding out her hands, her chicks warbling sweetly from her shoulders.

"I wouldn't—" James cautioned. "My boy's got a mean left hook."

Hermione scooped up baby Harry and cradled him against her. "Hey there, little man. Welcome to the world."

Harry's eyes were a murky blue-grey instead of the bright emerald green she had known so well but he gazed up at her, burbling excitedly, clasping her finger tightly in his hand and snuggling closer into Hermione's arms.

"You're going to live in a bright new world, little guy," Hermione crooned, and her fluffy chicks sang in approval, causing Harry to look curiously for the source of the sound. His newborn eyes were slightly unfocused, but he looked towards the sound of the warbles with clear interest.

"James!" Lily's voice screeched from the next room.

James scrambled, grabbing for Harry and promptly getting punched in the face. He stumbled, causing baby Harry to fly through the air, and in his panic, huge moose antlers sprouted from his head and James got stuck in the doorframe. Sirius dove to catch Harry as the baby squealed, and he was rewarded by a quick foot to the face.

James crashed through the door frame to get to his wife, sending wood, splinters, plaster, and brick in random directions as well as breaking off part of his own antlers, leaving them embedded in the wall.

"Fuck," Sirius blurted, his nose bleeding all over Harry's swaddling.

"That's going to give James quite a headache to remember," Hermione said.

"A little help here?" Sirius moaned.

Hermione picked up baby Harry and cradled him as Remus pulled Sirius to his feet. Severus pushed a cloth to Sirius' face to staunch the bleeding.

"Whf dis smff like mfgs?"

"Feed enough phoenix chicks and you are bound to start smelling like fruit, Black," Severus said, shaking his head. "Were you expecting fresh florals or baby powder, perhaps?"

"Mfo."

The three shook their heads at Sirius.

"James Potter! Where is my baby boy?" Lily's voice screeched.

Harry's eyes went wide and frightened, and he looked like he was going to cry.

Hermione cast her hand over the baby.

Fwoop.

Hermione casually added a strangely white chick with a black head crest to her collection on her shoulders. Her chicks warbled at the new addition, their head crests rising in curiosity and avid interest. The wobbly chick looked around, his head crest rising as he met his new "siblings."

"Chirrrr," one black chick greeted.

"Wark!" one brown chick cheeped.

Harry opened his mouth. "Honk!"

Hermione's chicks stared, their expressions decidedly unsure.

"Chirrriiieee!" the other phoenix chick sang.

Harry tried again. "Qwack!"

Severus slapped himself in the face with his hand.

James stumbled in, still sporting a one-sided antler. "Harry, where's our Harry? Lily just had a baby girl too, and she wants them together!"

Hermione and Severus gave James a cold stare.

Sirius still had a cloth over his nose and mouth. "Hfy imf rmgh dhere."

James looked desperate.

"_**JAMES CHARLUS POTTER!**_" Lily's voice screeched. "_**Where is Harry?!"**_

James tumbled and stumbled over himself to get back to his wife.

The little white chick with the black headcrest sighed with relief. "Chirrr."

"Third time is a charm," Severus said.

Hermione smiled evilly.

"_**WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE OUR SON IS?!**_"

_**Crash!**_

Severus patted Remus on the shoulder. "And you thought having a mate who had pups was a bit complicated and stressful."

All the fluffy chicks and one newly-assimilated chick warbled happily from Hermione's shoulder, each of them raising and lowering their head crests in synchronisation.

"Chirr!"

"Wirrrriiii!"

"Waarrk!"

"Piiiiiiwa!"

Remus blinked. "Where did that come from?"

"Too much time around Master Barberry—the Gilford one."

Remus grinned.

"Weeherwweer cheerio wee!"

Remus rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Names again, please. I keep forgetting."

"That one is Rigel," Severus said. "The signing robin imitator is Orion."

"Show off."

"Yes," Severus agreed. "The brown ones are Lyra and Minerva. The white interloper is Harry."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I got that one."

"Well you don't remember the others, so I figured I'd help your old and wrinkled mind," Severus muttered.

Remus mumbled a reply that wasn't overly flattering or polite.

"What's that, Remus?" Severus asked. "You want to take baby Harry back to his mother?"

The white and black Harry-chick grew wide-eyed and let out a fearful squawk before diving into Hermione's hair to hide.

"Not even a day old, and he already fears his mum," Severus said with a sniff. "It can't be good that he prefers to be transfigured into a phoenix chick rather than see his own mum."

"James is going to be sleeping in the doghouse," Sirius said, the bleeding finally having stopped.

"Might need to expand that couch _you _sleep on, Black."

"Hey, I haven't had to sleep on the couch in a while!"

"Since this morning."

"That was a while!"

Hermione and Severus rolled their eyes simultaneously as Sirius and Remus bickered back and forth.

"Chirrrr!" sang Lyra.

"Waaaaaaaaieee!" replied Rigel.

"Piiiiiiiiire!" said Orion.

"Mewchii!" said Minerva

"Honk!" said Harry, looking quite proud of himself.

The four phoenix chicks shook their heads and started again.

* * *

_**The Daily Prophet**_

_**The Baby Boom Edition**_

_Rumour has it, at the end of the last war, Death was so happy with the outcome that he gave the Wizarding world a boon, but what that boon was, no one knew. Some claimed it was being able to have a normal life. Others speculated that meant having loved ones left to love and live with— but Healers all over Britain are agreeing that the Wizarding world has been blessed with _**babies**!

_Pregnancies and births have kept couples and healers busy, busy, busy. It seems that every family that wished for children and tried for them got them, and then some. Twins appear to be the standard right now, with some couples having even more. Even more oddly, all of these babies are astonishingly healthy with no signs of the trauma that tends to be typical in multiple pregnancies._

_As a special service to the Wizarding community, the Daily Prophet is posting a list of the latest births that have occurred in the last few months. More are on the way, but the only thing I can tell you is, Hogwarts may have to arrange some consierable expansion to prepare for the influx of new students eleven years from now. Rumour has it that construction is already being planned— they have ten years to make it happen!_

_-o-o-o-o-_

_Barberry Family: Gareth Maddox, Margaret Grace, Klaus MacKenzie, and Moira Gwyneth_

_Beardog Family: Asher Stephan and Verbena Summer_

_Black (Sirius and Evelyn) Family: Aries Ludolf, Skylar Gerben, Anika Carolien, and Femke Gisela_

_Black (Regulus and Honey) Family: Columba Walburga and Castor Orion_

_Burrcrunkle Family: Violet Sharon and Barty William_

_Cornell Family: Ginger Mae and Abner Joseph_

Chambers Family: Lila Maureen and Alan Lawrence

_Croft Family: Lara Angelina and Jason Cornelius_

_Endicott Family: William John and Winifred Jane_

_Godwin Family: Trevor Lloyd and Aaron Boniface_

_Lupin Family: Tasha Hope and Randall Philip_

_Longbottom Family: Neville Frank_

_Malfoy Family: Draco Severus and Carina Hermione_

_Moody Family: Heather Annabell and Hugh Alastor_

_Snape (Severus and Hermione): Rigel Oberon, Orion Perseus , Lyra Titania, and Minerva Vega_

_Snape (Severin and Jean): Joanna Eileen, Sebastian Taliesin _

_Stroud Family: Ethan Luke and Isabella Hunter_

_Summers Family: Scott Xavier and Jean Rachel_

_Weasley Family: Ginevra Molly, Molly Anna, Louisa Jane, and Ronald Bilius_

_Wright Family: Mac Cameron and Jack Emerson_

_Wyght Family: Abigail Catherine and Martin Theodosius_

_Young Family: Christopher Jedediah Demetrius Maximilian Broderick_

_To all of you with new families and those of you with births around the corner, we gives our most heartfelt congratulations._

* * *

_**October 31st, 1981 — Waxing Crescent 12%**_

"You have dad's nose!" Lyra said, pressing her small hands to Tobias Snape's rather distinctive nose. She patted it respectfully, stroking it like she would her father's impressive beak.

Tobias blinked and stared rather wide-eyed at the small child with a head of hair that seemed to be dappled with spots. Her eyes were a very familiar fathomless black.

"Hello," Tobias said rather awkwardly.

Rigel and Orion peered over the edge of the bed, their grey eyes wide and curious. Minnie poked her head over the top of the fluffy quilt, refusing to leave her phoenix form behind. Her head crest rose up slowly in clear curiosity, but she gave a rather nervous warble. Moira, one of Minerva's young kitten-chicks, mewled encouragement beside her, gently hugging her with her paw. The two had become inseparable from the moment of their hatching, and no other time but stress brought out just how strongly dependent they were on each other for moral support.

"What's your name, mister?" Lyra asked, completely unabashed.

Tobias shifted. "Erm, it's Tobias, little miss."

"Toe-bye-us," Lyra sounded it out. "I like it. You may keep it."

Tobias cracked a smile. "Thank you."

"You have the same hair as my daddy," Lyra said.

The other chicks chirred in agreement.

One by one the chicks hopped on the quilt and moved shyly towards Tobias, tentatively reaching out their feet to feel his leg and then perch on it. They watched him closely, ready to scatter at a moment's notice.

Lyra, on the other hand, lead the clutch when it came to bravery (damn Gryffindor) and transformed into her phoenix chick self and promptly cuddled under Tobias' chin with a soft peeping.

Tobias froze, his hand every so slowly reaching up to touch the soft, downy warmth. His face contorted as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Chiirrrr!" Lyra began to sing.

"Cheeerrrrr!" answered Mini.

"Chehrrriiii!" harmonised Rigel and Orion.

"Miiiii!" sang Moira.

The tears rolled more freely, and Tobias hugged the little chick to himself with a tight, desperate need.

The little chicks sang, continuing their songs until all the tears were done and all the chicks lined up on Tobias's pillow as he slept— peaceful for perhaps the first time in months.

Severin closed his eyes and nodded to Severus as they observed Tobias through the one-way glass. "I had never thought to see it, and now that I have— I have to wonder if that bastard stole from us— all of us— a father who was fully capable of love and understanding. I find myself— wishing I'd at least known it was possible. I believed my mother to be a madwoman for loving such an abusive, vile drunkard. I believed no evil in the world to be as great as him, the ultimate Muggle swine. And all of it was a _lie_. All of it was created by Albus bloody Dumbledore as a means to his own selfish ends."

"There is still time, Severin," Severus said, placing one hand on his mirror-self's shoulder— marking a bond between brothers from two different times. "You may not be able to return and change your original timeline, but this Tobias has an opportunity none of the others have. He gets know me, you, my mutant brood. He gets to know her—"

Severus looked up to nod at his wife, who was holding Eileen's hand and patting it reassuringly. "Our mothers saw him at his best, and only now do we have a chance to bring that good man back, starting with remembering he was a good man to begin with."

Severin sighed and nodded. "I suppose if anyone can bring out the heart in someone, it would be obnoxiously fluffy and cute lintballs with inspiring songs."

"Don't forget the kitten-chicks."

"I feel like I am somehow less of a wizard in that my children do not have feathers, fly, or in some way defy the laws of nature from the very moment birth."

"Give it time, Severin." Severus chuckled. "With our blood and our luck, and way it mixes with our mates— it is only a matter of time before your children learn to fly too."

Severin sighed. "Could I at least teach them how to fly on a broom first?"

"I suppose that would be acceptable."

Severus stared into the next room where a pile of fluffy chicks and one kitten-chick were piled together in Tobias' lap, listening to him tell a story of a man who once had a baby son whom he loved very much and a wonderful woman who was his entire world.

Severin gave Severus a nod. "Neither of us were able to provide the sort of healing he needed. Perhaps it is time to let the younger professionals take it from here."

All the little chicks hopped up and down, flapping their wings in excitement, begging for another story, a pet, or even a kind smile.

Eileen walked over from the next room and smiled. "Hermione said she has spoken with a number of people at the Ministry, and they are willing, with the final vote of the Wizengamot, to allow Tobias and I to live in the Wizarding world. I won't have to give up my wand— my magic. And Tobias will continue to get the help that he needs. He remembers me—"

Eileen twitched nervously. "I owe this to someone named Hope. She apparently proved that Muggles can embrace the magical world and not wish to destroy it. But Tobias— he _will _be watched carefully. For now. But, perhaps, in time—"

"He is already healing, mother," Severus said. "He is already remembering you and myself as a baby." Severus shook his head in discomfort, but his face grew serious. "Even if that is all remembers, mother. Even if that is all that remains— you can built something new from the ashes. That is something I am all too familiar with."

Eileen stared at Severin, her hand reaching to touch his face. Severin stared at her, turning away, but she pulled his head back to look him in the eyes. "You _are _my son… from a different time?"

Severin nodded minutely. "Yes."

Eileen looked from Severus to Severin. "There is so much pain in your eyes. Some of it— I recognise. Some I know comes from a world where the greater good was synonymous with the greatest evil, and it almost won. And yet, here you are— strong. Alive. I have to believe all of this happened for a reason. I have to believe all of the pain will lead us to something better."

There was a desperate pain within Eileen's dark eyes. "I cannot believe it is all random, mindless or manipulated violence that brought us here."

"Random violence and manipulation did bring us to this point, Eileen," Hermione said as she drifted back in from the next room."But it is not that which drives us forward. It is not what heals Tobias. It is not what heals that wound inside you. In me. In Severus. In Severin. It is love that brings you back from the brink, mends the wounds you cannot see. It was love that brought you back to Tobias' side despite all that happened— not randomness. Not manipulation. Try to remember that when despair fills your heart."

For a moment, Hermione's body was wreathed in flames, her eyes shimmering with the sands of many times and many places. "One thing throughout all the times I have seen, Eileen. One thing remains the same. You fell in love with a wonderful man. Your heart and mind were not faulty. You did not make the wrong choice. You made a choice that an outside force twisted into something horrible. For now, know that your love is what is going to bring him back to you."

Eileen clasped Hermione to her tightly, weeping. "Thank you."

Hermione shook her head. "I have done nothing."

"My love may affect his recovery, Hermione," Eileen said, holding her tight. "But yours heals so much more."

Eileen stood up straight and squared her shoulders. She smiled at her "sons" and walked into the room where Tobias was being loved on by a clutch of very happy chicks.

"Tobias," she whispered.

Tobias Snape lifted his head at the sound of her voice and smiled as bright as the sun. "Hello, love."

* * *

**Saturday, October 26th, 1991 — Waning Gibbous 89%**

"Homework done, children?" Severus asked, his own quill working furiously over his stack of scrolls.

"Yes, father!" his brood chimed.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, setting down his quill and looking very satisfied with his work.

Severus extended his hand, his fingers wiggling.

Harry gulped and placed the scroll in his hand.

Severus scanned it, eyes flicking rapidly across it. "Common rue is not the same in potions as the other varieties of rue. There are goat's rue and meadow rue as well as Syrian and wall rue. It's use in Transfiguration is very specific, and you have mentioned nothing. The other Professor Snape will catch you on that, and she will give you 'the look'."

Harry snatched his scroll back and frantically flipped through his textbook to find what he was looking for before quickly rewriting part of his essay.

Severus checked each of the scrolls of his children, grunting that they check a paragraph or two but not telling them what the exact answer was. Soon the entire room was filled with the sound of busy quilling. This process was repeated a few times until Severus' grunts finally changed into a nod of acceptance, then the kids packed up their books into neat piles for Monday when classes would begin anew.

"Daddy?" Lyra asked.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Can we invite Briar Rose over?"

Harry's face paled, and he shook his head violently but froze in place when Lyra suddenly turned his way.

Severus, far from being unobservant, arched a brow. "Reason?"

"She's my friend!"

"Harry is your friend, and he's already here."

Lyra pouted. "He's family; he doesn't count!"

Harry sputtered. He took off as a white and black barnacle goose and flew into the next room, followed by Rigel and Orion.

Severus, knowing where such fights always ended up— with Harry sulking with Minerva in the Headmistress's office with Rigel and Orion, the three of them begging shamelessly for almond shortbread biscuits from her secret stash— didn't react.

"Daughter, only last week you were crying in your room," Severus recalled. "You said you _hated _her and her stupid little girlfriends."

"But we made up!" Lyra protested.

Severus sighed. "You may ask, but you know the rules. If her homework is not finished, you are not to have fun with her. You and your siblings have all worked hard and finished your homework. You have all set your priorities. As for the Gryffindors, that falls under Professor Lupin's domain. He must approve her completed work and give his permission. Then and only then, may she come over— or you visit her there."

"But, daddyyyy..."

Severus' brows furrowed. "What have I told you about emotional manipulation in this house, young lady?"

"No guilting people to get what you want," Lyra said, chastened.

It was just then when Hermione swept into the room in a flurry of black robes, her eyes blazing like twin suns. "Merlin save me from _**imbeciles!**_ If I have to watch over yet another detention with Miss Potter giggling as she passes notes back and forth with Mr Weasley thinking I won't notice, then I'm going to write a letter to Molly and let her know just how dreadful his work is and how bad his grades really are! And then, I'm going to write a letter to James and Lily and enclose copies of their daughter's fine essay work— which rated a sodding _**TROLL!**_"

"Hello, love," Severus answered, ignoring her rant to pull her down for a kiss.

Hermione slumped, relaxing. "Hi."

"Horrible evening?"

"Everything was fine until detention," Hermione said with a sigh. "Apparently Briar has pulling pranks on everyone from Gryffindor to Hufflepuff and in-between. Remus caught her applying sticking charms to seats. Charity caught her releasing these Muggle wind up cars that you pull back and leg go— only she had magicked them to perform a demolition derby with themselves and to chase after people as well. Tala said she was wrapping Ronald up like a mummy and having him stumbling around during the Healing class, and the only one who hasn't given her a detention is James because she's a right perfect angel in his class. Oh, and Xenophilius caught her tampering with the ink used for the Magical Journalism class, so that explains why the last edition of the paper came out in Yiddish and rainbow colours.

Severus blinked and stared blankly. "Apparently even hellhounds make better, more attentive students."

"They are perfect angels!" Hermione replied, throwing up her hands in disgust. "Oh, Lyra, I thought for sure you would be off trying to butter up Madam Pince for the latest edition of _Furly-backed Ferns and Hippogriff Sense_."

Lyra perked. "It came in!?"

"Obviously," Hermione replied.

"Can I go? Can I? Can I please?" Lyra begged.

Severus snorted. "What about spending time with Briar Rose?"

"But Daddy, _**BOOKS!**_" Lyra cried. "I've been waiting for _Furly-Backed Ferns and Hippogriff Sense_ for months!"

Severus crossed his arms. "One condition. You go find Mr Potter, and you apologise to him for calling him 'family' and then saying he 'doesn't count' in the same sentence."

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed.

Lyra shrank down and stared at the floor. "Yes, Daddy." She hung her head in shame and the phantom head crest lowered as she was properly chastised.

"Go on now," Severus said, and watched his chick scurry away at once. "I liked her better when her highest and most lofty goal was being able to sing like Gilford."

"Oh, Severus," Hermione said with a laugh. "They are just kids. Regardless of species. They have to fall on their faces, learn boundaries, realise said boundaries are there for a reason, and learn from their mistakes. Eventually, we hope they can figure out how not to break their necks flying too fast or going around dating the wrong sort of phoenix."

Severus snorted and pulled her close.

"Did she really say that Harry was 'just family' and that he 'didn't count'?"

Severus nodded. "She didn't mean it the way it came out, but she needs to learn to pay attention to what she is saying. He's practically family and took what she said the wrong way. The next person could be a master looking for a new apprentice."

"True, and we can't expect all of our children to be snapped up for them like we were, hrm?"

"Our children are dunderheads," Severus griped.

"Not all of the time, husband," Hermione laughed. "They have their moments, yes, I do agree."

"I swear, I must have dropped her egg as newly-laid phoenix," Severus sighed. "Maybe I exposed her to too much time-stream sand before she was ready."

Hermione swatted him playfully. "We have it slightly easier than the poor Masters Barberry. The kitten-chick quartet was driving Gilford to rap them upside the heads each time they let their feline noses get them in trouble. Then Minerva wanted to swat their rumps for letting their birdishness startle them every time the wind blew sideways."

"Kitten-chicks—" Severus sighed. "Yes, at least we have no strange magical crossbreeding going on in there. Regulus says that Castor is everything you'd expect from a boy named after his grandfather and a chimaera. He protects everything and everyone he cares about— and if he has to study to be better at it, he does exactly that."

"My Lord Father is so proud," Hermione smiled. "Columba Walburga, however, is a right little terror. Prim and proper and a perfect miniature of my Lady Mother. If anyone could have a perfectly cloned family, it would be my dear baby brother."

"Not perfectly," Severus pointed out. "There is a distinctive lack of you."

"Hah! Wrong generation. If there was a me, then there would surely be another Sirius and Regulus."

"Oh, in case you didn't hear the gossip on the teacher-vine," Hermione said with a laugh, "Honey is thinking of taking her cousin's daughter, Luna, under her wing as an apprentice. She'll be coming to Hogwarts next year, and she wanted to warn us that there would be another Lovegood under the roof."

"Merlin preserve us from more Lovegoods," Severus drawled, visibly amused.

Hermione snorted. "Solange and Xenophilius have had her studying abroad the last few years to learn how to effectively 'ground' herself. At least, I _think _that's what Solange said. I have no idea what that means, exactly— for a Lovegood, anyway."

"It means when she gets here she will see a hundred things no one else can— save, perhaps, for Solange and Honey. I'm never sure if Xenophilius actually sees things or merely pretends to." Severus tilted his head thoughtfully and shrugged.

"I know my parents would have never permitted me travel abroad by myself at the age of nine." Hermione frowned. "We let our chicks go places, I suppose, but there's always an older phoenix around to keep watch over them."

"Phoenixes are very social with other phoenixes, so at least we have that," Severus agreed. "Look at poor Black. His hellhound pups all want to be independent right now before they even know how to properly survive on their own."

"I think that's just about Sirius himself," Hermione said with a sigh. "The pups adore following everyone else around as much as possible."

"A pack of obnoxious little Gryffindor pups," Severus said, curling his lip slightly with disapproval.

"Still carrying that chip on your shoulder about Gryffindor?"

"Dumbledore was a Gryffindor."

"_**I**_ was Gryffindor too!"

"In a previous life!"

Hermione silenced her husband with a searing kiss, about which he mumbled his sincere approval as he stared into her eyes afterwards.

"Fine, there were some notable Gryffindors who might not deserve to be thrown bodily into a vat of soapy water and bathed daily."

"Oh!" Hermione groaned. "Mr Passridge. Minerva said she was going to accidentally trip one day and cover him in lemon-scented soapy water— as it is, his dorm-mates have already 'accidentally' shaved those dreads off him and were actually dragging him kicking and screaming into the showers. Remus, of course, thanks to his sense of smell, couldn't even go in to intervene until most of the scrubbing was done. The kids weren't even _there— _he was being attacked by multiple animated scrub brushes and a bar of deodorant soap."

"Ah, the peer pressure to be clean," Severus said, eyebrow lifting. "I suppose there are worse things in life. Has there been a visit to the parents yet?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "Unfortunately."

Severus leaned in. "And?"

"Their whole family are—"

"You _must _be joking."

"Pig farmers, Severus," Hermione said with a shudder.

"As much respect as I have for the farming life, you don't catch Farmer Hastings and Farmer Gildforth rolling around in filth like it's an appropriate lifestyle. They always make their deliveries without smelling like shite, and Farmer Hastings has the finest pork in all of Britain."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, Severus. Perhaps there is some other issue going on other than a general neglect of personal hygiene. He acted like he'd never even seen the light before. I mean, he knows English, but he just mumbles, and—" she trailed off, a bit of horror on her face. "Oh _Merlin_, Severus. What if— they treated him like Harry from my original timeline, only they shut him up with the farm animals?"

Severus shuddered in horror and revulsion. "I had thought once that having an abusive, alcoholic father was the worst situation for a child to be caught up in, but I am starting to think the world continually tries to show me still more horrible things to remind me I could have had it much, much worse."

Hermione touched his chin and smiled warmly. "I love you, my Lord Husband."

Severus pressed his forehead to hers and smiled. "And I you, my Lady Wife."

Just then a flurry of phoenix fledglings, a fledgling goose, and a myriad of little catbird fledglings wooshed by them, headed for the bedroom, being herded there by three fully-grown and apparently highly brassed-off phoenixes: Teacup, Dandy, and Jean. The young fledglings barely managed to shut the door just in time for the older phoenixes to barely miss slamming into them.

Severus and Hermione exchanged curious looks.

Hermione walked over, and the irritated adult phoenixes made crooning peeping noises, appealing to their elders to "fix" this untenable situation. Hermione soothed their heads and turned the doorknob only to find that her hand was stuck to the knob and the door wasn't opening. Mad giggling was going on behind the door, and Hermione was definitely _**not**_ amused. Narrowing her eyes, she transformed into her phoenix self and set herself on fire, searing away the doorknob and creating a phoenix shaped hole in the door.

As Hermione dropped the melted doorknob, she assumed her human shape again, and Teacup, Dandy, and Jean squeezed through the hole and proceeded to divebomb the children as they frantically stuffed the remaining biscuit "evidence" into their faces. Minerva leapt through the phoenix-shaped hole, and Severus pushed open the rather customised door with his fingers and glowered down at his children.

The phoenix chick-children immediately transformed, peeping as Teacup, Dandy, and Jean fell upon them and beat them with their wings, driving them back out of the room towards the bathroom.

Minerva gathered up her woeful kitten-chicks by the scruff of their necks and carried them out toward the floo she had come in, repeating the procedure until every single one of her wayward biscuit-stealing offspring was well and truly dealt with.

In the end, there was Harry— the poor, abandoned Barnacle goose gosling.

"Tell me, Harry," Hermione asked. "Did you partake of the biscuits?"

The gosling hung his head and nodded in shame.

"Did you ask first?"

Harry shook his head affirmative.

"And did she give you permission?"

Harry shook his head yes.

"Then, Harry, why are you frightened?"

"Perhaps, our young gosling thinks that since our exceedingly sneaky biscuit-thieving chicks stole the goods from Minerva's biscuit tin then he, too, shall be blamed, hrm?" Severus said, eyeing the black and white gosling with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, gently rubbing him under the chin with her finger. "If you are honest, we will always have your back. We cannot protect you if we do not know the truth, yes?"

Harry made a tiny gosling peep and nodded his head shyly.

"Just realise that none of our children cannot resist the urge to be mischievous around food, and you'll be just fine," Severus assured Harry with a shake of his head.

A giant bloodhound Patronus burst through the nearby wall and said, "_Hey, sis? Could you please watch over Harry tonight? I have to help Lily with an incoming shipment, and all of her usual people are down with a nasty case of the Wizard Flu. I don't want Harry to end up with it. Hell, I don't want to get it either. James wanted me to watch him tonight, but he's here too. It's going to be a crazy night. Merlin, I hope __**I **__don't end up sick. Briar is currently on lockdown, so you don't need to worry about her. Lily heard all about her daughter sticking people to their chairs and sent a screaming Howler. I'm pretty sure everyone in Hogsmeade now knows exactly what Briar did and just how Lily feels about it. How's that for a real public shaming? Anyway, gotta go. Please keep Harry safe and uninfected. Love you, sis."_

Hermione had a rather sly smirk on her face. "Harry, we'll just keep the shortbread flu inoculation biscuit a secret between us, okay?"

Harry nodded his head happily up and down.

"Good boy," Hermione said with a grin. "Go wash up for bed, please." She set Harry down, and the gangly young gosling shuffled off toward the washroom.

"I look forward to a good night's sleep," Severus said as he quickly repaired the door that Hermione had burned her way through. "Temper, love?"

"Maybe," Hermione replied. "Not quite as much as Teacup, Dandy, and Jean, though."

Severus' lips quirked up in a small smile. "Now that our chicks have been properly cowed by their avian aunts and uncles, and Minerva's kitten-chicks have been returned to sender, I think it is time for bed. For once, we do not have to patrol tonight."

"Have you noticed patrol doesn't seem even remotely horrible as it was that first week in?"

"All, well, _most _of the dunderheads now realise that trying to hide from Argus, Mrs Norris, and Bubbles is next to impossible by the second week," Severus mused. "You might, perhaps, be able to elude one of them, but not the entire team."

Hermione leaned up against Severus' shoulder. "Even with this insane influx of children— all the post-war baby boomers— It feels so peaceful here, Severus. It feels like home, even when we aren't back at the house."

Severus tenderly pressed his lips to her temple. "I am truly glad of it. I am also glad that Minerva saw ahead enough to hire multiple professors for the classes, though if Professor Burntkettle doesn't keep his sticky hands out of my private storage closet, I fear I will have to borrow the three-headed beast from Hope to guard it."

Hermione snorted and laughed. "Severus!"

"He's a moron."

"You think _everyone _not taught by the other Masters are morons."

"Self-taught, takes a test, thinks it makes him an exp—MPH!"

Severus' eyes widened as Hermione silenced him with a kiss.

"I love you, my Lord Husband," she purred. "Besides, love, if she didn't hire someone else, you'd be having to teach all the classes. And— you have to admit that he _does _stress safety."

"True," Severus admitted. "He does do well with the basics and instilling the basic safety procedures."

"And leaves you to teach the ones who survive their O.W.L.s," Hermione said with a wink.

"Must you be so positive?" Severus sighed. "You're so insufferable."

"All yours," Hermione sang with a grin.

"Thank Merlin," Severus replied firmly, pressing his lips to her.

Meanwhile, a totem pole of phoenix chicks piled on top of each other to peer around the doorway to stare. A black and white barnacle goose fledgling sneakily crept up upon them.

"_**HONKKKKKK!**_" Harry exclaimed, and the chicks tumbled off in random directions, scrambling and peeping madly.

Hermione pulled back from Severus and grinned. She clapped her hands. "To bed, my chicks! Goslings too! Lyra Titania, if I catch you reading by wand-light instead of sleeping, you'll be spending your picnic time reading the kind of book that puts even me to sleep and using an entire roll of parchment to report on it."

Sad peeping came from under the couch as a dusty sienna chick hauled off to bed.

"To bed, or I will force your Uncle Sirius to adopt you all!"

Frantic peeping came from every direction as every chick hopped into bed with all due haste.

Hermione tucked each chick into their nest which was conveniently located near a human-sized bed. Most of them, despite their age, preferred to sleep in their bird forms, and even gosling-Harry was no exception. He would sleep, head tucked under wing, in the middle of the bed. She kissed each chick on the head and waved her hand to extinguish the lights.

Hermione climbed the spiral stairs to the upstairs section of their living quarters, smiling as she saw Severus curled up in the commandeered flowerbox he had lined with comfy fibres and various types of nesting material. While the door to their chambers still connected to the Slytherin "dungeons", Professor Burntkettle had moved into their old chambers. Now, with four fledgling chicks and numerous visitors, they had a larger space, but an even better view overlooking the Black Lake and a peaceful garden, thanks to Honey's latest project.

Hermione transformed, landing next to her mate with a soft croon and wrapped her neck around his. Severus flopped his wing over her, warbling happily. They cuddled with each other, softly singing a sweet song of contentment that drifted through Hogwarts.

Finally, when all the lights had long been out, and even Argus' light had gone dark, four phoenix chicks and one black and white gosling sneaked up into the flower box, tucked themselves under the adults' wings, and went to sleep.

Hermione's eyes flickered open as she felt the warmth of her chicks sneaking under her wings and she smiled. Even as they continued to grow, they still wanted to share the nest with mum and dad, but she was okay with that. Harry was living a good, happy life— never having known the Dursleys save from his mother's rather heated descriptions. No Dark Lord or Heartless General of the Greater Good was wrestling for power and corrupting the younger generation from a very early age.

James and Lily Potter were alive.

Sirius had become a respectable pillar of society— if there even was such a thing for him, forced to teach his young pups to not follow in his own footsteps.

Beloved Minerva was happily married and a mother, valiantly keeping her mutant kitten-chicks in line despite their frequent attempts to get out of it. Gilford, proud robin and father was truly the best role model for all of their children.

Alastor and Hope Moody were the furthest things from moody as a family could be. Hope was the most understanding Muggle mum for a family of magical lupine misfits than anyone could ask for. Alastor, of course, was the best overprotective, paranoid dad anyone couldn't ask for, but everyone loved him anyway—they just feared for his daughter's future suitors.

Grandpa Orion went on long walks with his grandson and fellow chimaera— the little miniature Orion walking side by side with his namesake, and it never failed with young Castor Orion— if he fell asleep, he would attract phoenixes, just like his granddad. Ironically, Castor Orion usually ended up with his phoenix cousin, Orion Perseus, nestling under his chin during naptime, increasing the household's Orion count to three. Meanwhile, his sister Columba adored social politics, and was her grandmother's mini-me in all things. The relationship between Walburga and the rest of her children had become far more relaxed as a result. No one was complaining about that.

Draco and his twin sister Carina had become so inseparable that many came to believe that parting them for more than an hour would cause a nervous breakdown. Fortunately, when the time for Hogwarts came around, the twins had branched out on their own but still remained close, and Hermione was glad to know that Lucius and Narcissa had finally found love and acceptance within each other and their new family.

As Sagacity landed on the flower box, consumed his rodent-dinner, and settled in beside his phoenix family, everything felt like it was going to be the way it was supposed to be.

No Dark Lords— No power-hungry Lord of the Greater Good. Death had reclaimed his Hallows, and the curse of slowly-fading magic that had afflicted the Potter family seemed to have been released at long last.

Even the Weasleys— while swamped with more children than they had _ever _planned for— were doing just fine. Ronald, while surely someone to be punished for committing some truly unspeakable things in her original timeline, was now just a lazy and annoying boy who had never managed to set appropriate priorities for himself. While the Snapes did not socialise much with the Weasleys after the war, mostly due to Molly having no time outside of raising her brood of nine children, Hermione believed things had turned out for the better. Molly's brothers, Gideon and Fabian, were still alive. Fred and George were growing up to be just as healthy and as obnoxious as they ever were in her original time— only strangely far less so than their younger brother, Ronald. Arthur had been promoted, so even with the explosion of Weasley children, he was not struggling to make ends meet like the man Hermione remembered so well from her future-past.

The time-refugees were all living well-adjusted and happy lives away from most of the Wizarding world as to not rock the time-boat, but close enough that they were not outcasts in their new home. There were those like Severin and Jean, who had fully embraced their new lives, and Hermione suspected Jean was expecting their second or rather, third, child. Both parents-to-be were keeping tight lips this time, however— seemingly forgetting that nosy phoenixes tend to find out before anyone else.

The centaurs had a foal-boom just like their human counterparts, and for the first time in centuries, the forest was full of centaurs. The Snapes, Barberrys, Lupins, Blacks, Potters and Moodys often visited their friends in the herd. Alastor had commented that you couldn't even trip anymore without falling on a centaur, and Meliton had announced that was the best news that the centaur people had ever had. Meliton was now reaching his elder years, and despite his being healthy and strong, was finally passing leadership of the herd over to Magorian. Magorian, having never learned to be bitter and untrusting of humans, was looking to be a fine leader who maintained the peace and friendship between the centaur and Hogwarts. Bane and Firenze had become fast friends, and their presence at Hogwarts remained a strong testament of the faith between the centaur and humans— something that Hermione could only have dreamed for the herd in her old timeline.

And Remus— dear Remus— was alive and well. He had a mate. They had two healthy children, and he was probably the most beloved teacher at Hogwarts due to his warmth, kindness and sense of humour, even despite his far stricter teaching demeanour when compared to the Remus she had once known.

If this had all been part of Death's gift to them, then Hermione wasn't complaining. Death hadn't been terribly specific, but Severus believed it had been the "blessing of a hundred children." Hermione wasn't sure, but she wasn't keen about looking too closely. Life was good, and everyone knew that one did not look a gift from Death himself in the mouth, much less dare to question his munificence.

And all of it seemed to pale in comparison to the fact that so many people existed now, in this present, people who had never had a chance before. Violet and Stephan Beardog, Masters Highweather, Teaworth, Greenpetal, Willowbark, and Armstead— all of them were alive. Hermione couldn't help but think that while she was banned forever from the timestream she had been born in that she had ended up okay.

Severus was looking at her, letting out a soft chirr of concern. She preened him, projecting her joy and heartfelt love. And there was the biggest reason of all that told her that while she had lost much, she had gained more— a second chance for an actual greater good. She had succeeded. No, not just her— they had all built a life together. They had all defied the greater good of two sides of a spectrum of light and darkness, settling happily in the grey of peace. Best of all, they had placated Death, giving back what had always been His. It wasn't bad for a life's resume of relatively newborn phoenixes, a werewolf, and most of all— friends. The peace and respect had grown between purebloods and Muggleborns, and life was better for it— even if most of those that didn't support it had been sort of, ahem, turned into werepoodles. Hell, even the Dementors were happy, now. Happy Dementors. What? Hagrid was happily tending the Azkaban werepoodles. Bane had become one of the best-loved teachers of Care of Magical Creatures in the history of Hogwarts. Firenze had a waiting list of people wanting to be in his Divination classes. Minerva had brought such reform in bringing in new classes and new (competent) professors that many children were saying they loved school and didn't want to leave.

That sounded like success to Hermione.

A tiny warblepeep came from Harry as he twitched in his sleep, and the other chicks preened him to quiet him down. All of them nestled together in contentment, whatever arguments and trials they may have had during the day forgotten. Hermione warbled a happy song, and Severus answered her, entwining his neck with hers. They snuggled together, closing their eyes as sleep claimed them.

* * *

_**In the very distant future past…**_

The great volcano belched ash and lava into the air, rivulets of smoking red and black trickling down the sides and over the valley below. A shadow cast itself upon the nest built nestled in a giant mushroom that stretched tall in the air as tall as any tree— had there been any trees around to compare them to.

A sienna brown phoenix hen sat on her large nest built into a divot in the mushroom's cap. Above them towered even larger mushrooms, but they acted as shelter over the seemingly small nest. The black phoenix landed on the rim of the next, holding a bunch of seapods and fruits pillaged from far away. He held them out in his beak, which the female accepted gratefully. They ate together in silence, pausing every few seconds to preen each other, and then they looked down in the nest.

Faint peeping and tapping came from the shells, and both parents looked on, cocking their heads to listen, warbling softly in encouragement. Cracks appeared in the shell, and a bright orange eggtooth poked out with the soot black beak. The beak parted as the chick inside heaved before continuing its struggle to be free. The other eggs tumbled and cracked. All of the chicks making soft peeps of determination.

The black phoenix sang, and the sienna brown female echoed him, singing their new chicks into the world with encouragement and love. With a sharp crack, the shell burst open and the little chick inside began to glow with fire.

_FWOOSH!_

The shell incinerated and a fluffy red and orange chick sat in the egg's place.

Peep. Peeeeep. Peep. Peep!

The chick opened his mouth, clearly starving.

Hermione stuffed mashed fruit into his gaping maw, radiating happiness.

She and Severus looked down on their firstborn of the clutch and sang a song that carried across the mushroom tops to the distant volcano.

_Shimmering gold_

_And burning red_

_A phoenix is born_

_With tiny wings spread._

_Black eyes like the father,_

_And heart of the mum—_

_May his song be strong_

_Across the time-streams hum._

_May your song and name echo_

_across the mountain's rocks._

_We name you here—_

_We name you… Fawkes._

The little chick gave his first tiny warble of song, inspiring his brothers and sisters to hatch even faster. Hermione and Severus nuzzled their little chick, proud of what he was and what he would be far, far in the future.

Whatever time in which they made their nests, they would be one— together.

Always.

* * *

_-Einde-_

* * *

**A/N:** And so the epic ends. Thank you all for your overwhelming support. Thank you, too, for those that understand that real life is real, and inspiration is not done on a forced schedule. It is to you, the patient, the compassionate, and the understanding that I dedicate this story.

A big thanks to my lovely (and one handsome) betas: fluffpanda (the overly busy and omg what is all this stuff to do!?), The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01 (she is the ONLY 01!), and Flyby Commander Shepherd (shooter of bad guys for my honour). Thank you. I love you all.

And thanks you, dear readers, for sticking with me to the end.

_Dank je wel._

_Arigato gozaimasu._

Thank you.


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